Descendants Of Deception
by BloodyRosalia
Summary: CR-SO1 was sure that he was free once he left his icebox. Gabriel was confident that nothing else would go wrong with his career. Naomi planned that she wouldn't face another high-profile case again. All were wrong. TT OC s Fic
1. Chapter 1

**7/25**

***after checking like...ten pages of info on TT, the location of Resurgam is said to be Maine :/***

_So, I'll just warn you beforehand that any reference to Maryland was intended to be corrected to Maine (ex: Maryland Medical would be Maine Medical) The state confusion does affect the plotline a tiny bit, but ...I'll handle that over here ^^;_**  
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8-5-11

A/N Whoo hoo! I didn't think I could start writing a new story so fast! I guess with each school year I write a long fic as my assignment...XD

Anyways, I had a blast in the beginning with the clean slate of vocab... (but I ran into a bunch of trouble in the end...oh well.) Hope you like it!

My old OC and I will be waiting at the bottom...so tread carefully.

Characters belong to ATLUS. The ones you don't recognize are mine.

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><p><strong>01-The_Beginning_<strong>

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><p>Narrow alleys shrouded in darkness and broken roads sided with dim orange lights were what stretched across downtown Portland, Maine at nighttime. Nothing welcomed you here except the deathly silence and buzzing of the rusty old lamps on the sidewalk. If you were lucky, maybe one of the homeless would be passing by from around the corner with a cart-load of garbage and a song to hum. But his pitiful appearance meant nothing to <em><strong>them<strong>__. _This point in the day, the opposite of rush hour, there were two types of blockage in the streets in _**their **_eyes:

The first and most common are the rows of cars and motorcycles lined up near bars for the late-to-party adults and drunks of the area. Loud and festive, they were what created the irritating flat-pitched singing and banshee-like screeches at dark that would wake any poor souls resting in the crumbling apartments nearby. Since those noisemakers tend to stay indoors, they weren't a problem for _**those people**_.

The other obstacle was no other than the nefarious mafia, unrefined gangs, and sly thugs of the dormant city. A damsel unfortunate enough to be wandering the forbidding back streets could be kidnapped without much of a shriek, made into a miserable slut after being robbed, or simply killed at the spot and be made a meal for whatever critters that roam out there. The thought was unpleasant in the least, so loitering with a pocketful of cash would be a...bad idea.

Those sinister rats and monsters of men who dwell here were the only thing that posed a threat, but if you were part of _**them**__,_ thenyou should know how to evade those punks without a hitch. Sometimes.

Being a completely different organization cut off from the usual corrupt gangdom, _**they **_don't spend much of their lives in this infested district. Actually, avoiding to step a foot in this hostile neighborhood was what _**they**_ would prefer.

"You didn't have to run. The guards and police had given up an hour ago." A mischievous, female voice whispered to a gasping young man who had just arrived from the back door of a restaurant to rendezvous. The two hid under the protection of the shadows of a deserted corridor.

The male had yet to catch his breath as he said back in the same volume, "This place gives me the creeps. Why did you tell him to meet somewhere else?" He was bent over and was sweating like a dog, at the same moment trying to keep his panting to a minimum.

Not at all disgusted by his status, she stood without sympathy and asked coldly, "Do you have it?" The complaint went with no comment and previous question she felt could be answered with logic- no, she saw it as another complaint. They were one of _**them**_; lamenting about their jobs was not tolerated, for the pay was well worth beyond the risk.

"You really need to ask, huh? I came all the way here and that's the only thing you-"

"Do you have it or not?" The icy hiss couldn't be any more brutal to the ears of the exhausted man. There was no response for a few minutes from him and she assumed aloud, "So you have failed the mission?" Her tone made herself seem superior compared to the other, who finally had the strength to stand straight to face her frozen composure.

The man chortled to the tense air emanating just from her angered presence. "Of course not." He could never go back to _**them**_ after screwing up a mission; that would totally ruin his reputation. Maybe even his- Nevermind. It's not that he _did_ mess up and drop _it. _"Seriously. I. Didn't. Fail. Period." But the silent treatment he was getting wasn't making things any better.

After the pressure was lifted with the woman's naughty smirk, she praised, "I didn't know what I would have done if you did. Good work." Her footsteps were unheard as she led the man further down the passageway, which was entirely engulfed in the black reaches of the starless night. They left no traces, no evidence of their meeting and naturally, no witnesses...as _**their **_rules applied.

* * *

><p>"I heard that you took custody of the child next-door." A tall African-American male said from his neatly arranged desk with his hands folded firmly at his lap, facing the glass windows to his left side. He was kindly addressing the silver-haired woman wearing a formal suit and tie seated in the one of the two modern styled chairs placed in front of his kept workspace.<p>

The man pushed up his glasses and apologized when he knew she wouldn't reply, "I'm sorry. The news and rumors going around don't reach here as fast as they used to. I believe you and Alyssa-" Just as he could offer his regards the adopted girl, he was interrupted by the impatient visitor.

"Just give it to me straight, Chief." The medical examiner had crossed her legs as she watched the him fix his crinkled trench coat from sitting for so long and lower the collar of his sweater underneath. "What do you need to tell me?" Her pale azure eyes were glaring at the bronze nameplate located atop his desk before shifting her gaze upwards.

The plate read 'David Wayne' in white on the first line and 'Cumberland Institute of Forensic Medicine' in bold umber with a emblem crested beside it. Despite the professional look of it, the woman knew her boss was an easily concerned individual, normally worried about the health and personal matters of each staff member in the building. She couldn't pinpoint the exact nature of him, but she was content with having a protective manager- but a private conversation about Alyssa was uncalled for.

As David slowly directed himself to face her, he said gently, "I know you have just came out of a hospital, Naomi. Are you sure about getting back to work at this time?" He saw the forensic expert cross her arms and lean back a little, displaying her answer in a convinced manner. "Alright then." Was his response. He casually slid over a few manilla folders from his left of his desk to the center.

They only met between her assigned autopsies to discuss the next case to crack, and this was similar to one of those occasions. To be frank, they could hold these sort of discussions anywhere: the nearest cafe, in the halls of the institute, even online. But the reason they have gathered so clandestinely in his office away from everyone else was for a specifically... different circumstance.

Naomi Kimishima couldn't be more aware of the obvious. She took note that the Chief had more documents than the usual three and out of curiosity questioned, "Is there something special about this case?" The Raging Bomber mystery was dangerous enough; if this was another high-profile murder case, she would have to decline.

"I'm giving you a choice." Chief Wayne's deep voice was a bit unsettled, which was typical to her ears. "There is one that...is confidential to the public and minor authorities, only the FBI and I know about it." His face was more precarious as he continued giving details, "I don't know why they would pass this to you with no corpse to examine; this should be for a detective. But the reward is quite generous. A man would kill for this much money, so please consider that-"

"I think I'll take the other one." Dr. Kimishima said nonchalantly as she got up from the seat, her ponytail and necklace affected by the abrupt movement. She extended her arm out for the documents as she reasoned briefly, "I'm not putting myself or the girl in jeopardy just because of a heavy paycheck."

Even with no chance to give details about the second autopsy, David nodded in agreement to her decision when he pushed the other set of papers forward. "I can't argue." But before dismissing her, he warned, "Please don't stress your recovery. If for any reason you can't continue-"

"Don't go worrying about me, I'll be fine." Naomi's reassuring statement quieted him within less than a second. She held the victim's profile and description in one hand and used the other to prop open the door. "If there's anything else you have to say to me, contact my agent. I'm heading to my office to sort this out."

The man waved goodbye and gave a weak smile as semi-transparent door closed behind her. He sighed in a relieved way when he knew the old, slightly stubborn Dr. Kimishima was back. "Confident as always...Now, these need to go back-" The other files still on his desk were stuffed back into the same drawer and soon gone from the Chief's mind.

He spun his chair to the side once more. The view was grand, considering that the office was on the highest floor: clear blue skies with patches of clouds scattered about and the lively city growing below it. "This summer was an unforgettable one..."

* * *

><p>The Rosalia epidemic had been put to an end a week ago, and life was put back on the right tracks as it should have been. Its wheels have begun to turn again...<p>

And he was back inside what one doctor has called the 'icebox.' The prison where he had already spent eight years of his life in and perhaps two hundred more...if not for these words spoken by the man in charge of his containment, Ian Holden:

'You better be ready for surgery next week.'

After what had happened in the past month, he was trusted enough to be given the opportunity to operate. The regulations were very easy to understand. He had one whole year, starting from today, to save as many lives as he could in the OR. Each procedure would deduct two years from his sentence, which currently stood at approximately 230 years.

He had 365 days to save about 115 lives. That would means one operation every... Forget the math. All there was to know was that the ratio was respectable and gave him plenty of time to redeem himself from the crime he was blamed of.

The prisoner stood up with a torn cloak over his uniform when he heard sounds of footsteps and commands on the other side of the heavy gate. There was also a few more conditions, but he let Ian, who wore the same tan coat and shades, remind him of them, "CR-SO1, your year of service begins now. You realize that you are to stay at Resurgam for that duration and that you leaving it would terminate the deal...right?"

The black haired man closed his emotionless, crimson eyes for a few seconds to adjust to the light piercing through the stale air to the the bleak walls of the cell. "Yes." He reopened his eyes to see Ian holding a strange metallic bracelet; it was the radar they were to put on him so they would know if he ever walked beyond the grounds of the hospital.

"This will start flashing if you wander too far. Solid means that you broke the contract and we'll be after you." The man informed with a voice that made him sound unfriendly to the prisoner, but his true intentions could be seen when he advised, "You are free to roam the premises and make a couple of friends, so take advantage of that."

Ian slipped the device back into his pockets for later and noted, "This is all you get to reduce your time here. I wouldn't blow it." It wasn't until the surgeon nodded back and took off the frayed garment before he was escorted out of the chilly compartment and into the unblemished, white halls of the prison complex with two stern guards securing the path behind him.

They reached an exit leading to the armed vehicle meant to transport convicts. The detective ordered the guards to see the young man to the truck, which would be the last chamber he would be kept in...the final one kept at zero degrees Celsius, that was.

As he lowered his head to enter, he saw a spotless lab coat waiting for him at the bench in the back. It seemed to be the same one that he wore a week ago. It replaced the ragged cloak that the prisoner left behind in the old cell as he effortlessly threw it over his back; since he was still in cuffs, he couldn't wear it properly. After taking a seat on the hard bench, he heard voices speaking beyond the door that had yet to be locked up.

"There's a traffic jam?" That austere, demanding voice had to be Holden's.

"I heard an orphanage and a few homes next to it caught on fire, they had to reduce the lanes on the highways for the firetrucks and the EMTs." That unfamiliar male voice may belong to either the driver or one of the guards. It definitely sounded nervous. "We might not get there until late noon." The soundproofed door muted out any more of the talking from the surgeon's ears.

"An orphanage...on fire...?" CR-SO1 murmured softly to himself, recalling an acquaintance of his at Resurgam First Care mentioning those words during the outbreak. She was a paramedic there...yes, her name was...

* * *

><p>Maria Torres was accustomed to loving the thrill of high-speed driving. But there were a couple of factors that limited her bliss right now. One was that she wasn't on her favored aerodynamic motorbike with the wind running through her short, brown hair. No, she was forced to drive in a buff, hunk of metal called an ambulance. Though in this urgent situation, she couldn't make a dispute of it.<p>

She was in emergency mode right now. And to make things worse, it was a freaking orphanage burning down. Just like the one she was in at fourteen when she wasn't careful with lighting up a cigarette.

And indeed it was. The blazing structure was almost identical the house she had set fire to. As much as she hated to admit it, she was one of the last to arrive even though Resurgam was the closest hospital. Damn the dead cellphone and missed call. "Ugh, screw my timing..."

The hasty paramedic leaped out her vehicle with a first-aid kit to join the others in treatment and transportation of the kids being carried out by firefighters. The building was already falling into shambles, and the number of children being rescued was declining with it.

Dr. Torres found herself treating the minor injuries of a jet-black, spiky haired Caucasian teen who appeared the oldest out of all the orphans. She assumed the person was male from being able to tolerate the wounds without a care in the world as he was looking about, checking something. "Hold still, you got a burn on your arm-" It wasn't as severe as she expected, only being a second-degree burn that only needed a little antibiotic gel and bandaging. Once taken care of, she stood up and asked the nearest firemen, "Hey, are all the kids out of there?" The smell of smoke was suffocating at this close range.

One of them replied, "We're not sure, they're still counting. At least the families living next to this have already evacuated..." He had a hose aimed at the flames, ready to spray the fire with the appropriate signal. "But even if there's still some left in there, the exit is almost totally blocked. They won't make it." The words were cruel, but it was reality.

"Dammit..." Maria cursed as she saw the last firefighter come out unsuccessful with no survivor in his arms salvaged. She turned back to speak to the teenager she just aided but discovered no one was there. "Where did-" She immediately spun back around to see the juvenile dashing towards the entrance. "Hey-! Get back here! Where do you think you're..." She tried to make chase as the other adults nearby made pursuit of her, but he was already inside.

As the fireman have said, the front beams collapsed and entering was now impossible. The paramedic in charge of the kid was the closest to the fallen, burning debris, with her gloved hands covering her nose and mouth from inhaling the fumes. She was pulled back by a few firemen, hearing a nurse and co-worker Darnell Sellers call her name.

"Let me go!" The woman shouted as she struggled to release herself from the grasp of the others. "A kid just ran in there, you have to get him out!" Her yell barely made it out of her mouth as she choked on the flying ashes. When she was released after being taken back fives meters or so, she pointed to the combustion and screamed as hard as she could with her dried throat, "There's still someone...You can't-" Her voice had diminished consequently and someone had cut in.

"Calm down, Dr. Torres-" The male nurse wearing a blue shirt said while keeping his distance from the enraged Maria, whose vivid orange and lush green jacket was charred somewhat from the airborne exhaust. Darnell did want to console her, but all he could stutter out was: "We already lost three from fatal burns and... Y-you can't save him now. "

The olive-colored eyes of the aroused paramedic had a glow from the scorching fires in front of her. She couldn't believe it. She had just let a child sprint into his certain death. Her legs faltered and she sunk down to her knees, now all she could do was fight her own tears. This was the kind of disaster that shouldn't get worse with her experience.

Back then she could save one girl, now...with all of med school, she couldn't save anyone. "How could I let this happen?" Her fist was slammed onto the concrete ground, the physical pain unnoticed.

Behind Maria stood most of the other distressed members of the Resurgam first response team and some unharmed but frightened children soon to be taken to the hospital to stay at. The director of the asylum was next to them, taking roll. She was wearing a faded autumn-patterned dress that had burnt edges, and was...round near the waist. Her medium cherry-brown hair was tangled and her skin matched Chief Patel's; there was a possibility that they were related, as they both wore fancy jewelry and makeup.

This lady was the only one to equal Maria's panic, as three already uncovered perished and she had figured out who was not present using the numbers. "Where's Gary? And what happened to...Oh god, they're..." When she was about to go on with the meaningless rambling, the deafening cry of shattered glass echoed past the assemblage of medical professionals and rescuers.

All attention was put to the source of the disturbance: the busted window on far right of the second level of the deteriorating structure. Behind it was...

"Hey, it's..." "Someone help them!" The parentless youngsters gasped along with their stunned coordinator while workers scurried about searching for a method to deliver both the bruised teen and the unconscious boy he was struggling to hold up back down to dry land. The newly found child was bleeding from his forehead; his dirty brown hair was shorter than the black one of his savior.

Dr. Torres instinctively went forward and hollered, "Just hang in there-!" She was positive the firefighters had a trampoline that was perfect for this type of predicament. But at the same moment, half of the smoldering roof behind the trapped kid crashed; a torched beam that once supported it struck the his defenseless back. He only flinched and clenched his teeth at the impact as outsiders watched in horror, the beam maiming him from escape.

There was no time for the jump. The only chance he could make it out was if there was a way to have the child in his hold removed. Maria couldn't bear the last resort of forsaking the boy after the daring effort, but there was one more option she had reserved to confront the ultimate peril. "Throw him down! I'll catch him!" Exclamations were made behind her as she implored, "Hurry!"

The teenager, whose brilliant scarlet eyes showed reluctance even in his current position, tilted his head just by fraction of a degree. The paramedic below took the gesture as a nod and hurled away her jacket for the catch. The hero mustered the power to heave the child outwards; leaving the rest to gravity.

With her sharp eyes dead set on the falling boy, the woman made a field goal stance. "I got ya..!" In a heartbeat, she snatched him just before any deadly contact to the seared grass and crushed pottery. "Someone take him!" A moved fireman close by sprinted to her side to free her of the child knocked out from breathing some of the toxic smoke.

But when it was the next one's turn to break loose from the destroyed orphanage, he had already planned ahead. He was crouched on the ledge without strain, determined to find another object to rely on. Maria detected that and said, "Hold on, you aren't gonna..." His age and weight hadn't caused the doctor to think twice, but it was unmistakable that it had stirred his judgment of what to do.

There was a towering oak tree about two meters from where the window was. It wasn't dominated by fire like the building, and could be the only hope of the desperate soul. Dr. Torres let out a heavy breath- there wasn't a minute to spare negotiating. She relocated herself in front of the most convenient branch and encouraged as he gauged the length, "Give it your best shot... I'm here if you don't make it!"

The riot of crackling and booming noises being emitted from the edifice breaking apart slowed down as everyone paused to witness this one instant. It was all or nothing as the teen sprung out, just as the last of the room tipped and came to a violent descent.

* * *

><p><em>The picture was blurry. If there had to be a one-word description for the image, then that was it. It's a blur. The image was just a canvas of dull, splotchy colors; you couldn't squint to make out the walls of the painting, if there were any. Yellow was the most solid part of the discoloration you saw, and everything else was just a smudge of brown or gray. <em>

_Just where was this? If you life was on the line for this knowledge, then you would have guessed that this was outside...and somewhere urban at dusk._

"_Crap. They're onto us." The unrecognized male voice was kinda muffled out. You perceived the danger, but you had not a clue of what your business with this do-or-die dilemma was. You just...hightailed._

_The figure you were tagging along with groaned, "I can't believe they found us..." Frustrated, yes. Explainable, no. "Someone must have snitched!" You had a compelling feeling to tell this guy something, but just as you were going to, there was a flash that blinded you as the setting was altered._

_Another vague...surrounding. At least the background was detailed- it was a no-brainer:_

_Everything was black. It was just...a vacant room with one faint light-bulb above you. Ghastly. "Just accept the fact you're a gentleman. Getting stuck with other people's problems is your fate." Again, voice didn't ring a bell. It was as if the woman had given the simple truth to you straight. _

_When the statement was done, the flash happened again. _

He was up. The tall man with burly dark-green hair in a lab coat...there, napping on the couch.

The adult stuck a cigarette into his mouth, stretching his arms leisurely and yawning in advance. He disregarded the cluttered room he had rested in for his lunch break and sat up on the comfy sofa.

The place was a wreck. A low table stacked with garbage was in front of him was already put to labor for holding the extra weight of the assortment of smokes. His unsightly desk filled with endless files and a drained mug of coffee was somehow paired with a top-notch office chair. Behind him were several shelves of clobbered books and magazines topped with unused medical paraphernalia. Oh, there was the fridge, too; stocked with cola and snacks that added to the trash pile when finished.

This was his peaceful domain. Everything was **perfect **as before...except that_ thing. That. _To the left of his desk. The blue monitor with the elephant ears.

_That_ was the fantastic bucket of bolts he was presented with by his dear Esha Patel a month prior to the plague- the disease he had diagnosed along with _the piece of work _that could have wiped America off the surface of the earth. That was his faithful computer: Rapid Organization Networked Intelligence.

"_Dr. Cunningham, there seems to be an odd accumulation of humans at the lobby."_ That was its monotone, robotic, and everything irritating...voice. As he couldn't hear enough of the assistant.

The doctor lazily rose up from his lounging spot. "RONI, it's called a crowd." He bent back down to pick up the stethoscope hung on the edge of the couch and swung it around the back of his neck into position. He swiped the coffee container from the littered desk and turned the knob on the door to his left. "You weren't like the other models...I'm off duty, need I remind you." He grumbled before going into the maze of neat corridors that connected all of Resurgam.

When the office door was shut, the glossy name tag imprinted with 'Dr. Gabriel Cunningham' was shone on once again by the ceiling lights. It was refinished and set back there when the diagnostician returned after his one exciting week of retirement. He acknowledged that no matter where he went, trouble always followed. He couldn't deny that he was giving up on the promising life he could afford with his savings, he just...didn't know what goes next.

First destination: the staff lounge. Not much doubt put in that. And maybe he could sneak a peek at what was going on in the lobby. If it was a party or anything of the sort, he'd gladly refuse.

But It turned out that he came upon the second stop first. Why? Because...

"Gabe! Over here, now!" The Chief had a knack for dragging him into her work issues, shift or no shift, he wasn't discriminated from it. She was hiding behind the corner where the stairs leading down to the main lobby were. "We got a sticky situation down there!" The boss' discomposed murmuring caused the man to wrinkle his eyebrows.

"'We?'" He snickered just as someone below bellowed.

"Esha Katherine Patel! You come down right now and show some responsibility!" There were thunderous tapping noises after the order. "Don't start messing with me!"

The lady being referred to cringed as Gabriel was temporarily speechless. One person had just defied the Esha's control of the establishment...and whoever it was _wasn't_ happy. There were others that spoke from the floor under them, "Please calm down..." The forgiving and hardly accented voice had to be Tomoe's. "Chief! What's taking you so long?" Spirited shouting and a tough tone were Maria's specialty. More mumbling was noted as the disoriented pair above stared at each other.

"What in the world is going on here..?" That was what Dr. Cunningham wanted to ask. He glimpsed at the entrance of the hospital to seethe shady Detective Holden, who just tried to interrogate, with the specialist next to him. But that wasn't all the view had to offer.

* * *

><p>CR-SO1 found himself stranded in a sea of children. Most of them had cuts and burns treated and reinforced with medical patches and dressing; they were all glaring at him and Ian on their unprecedented entrance. He wanted to ask the meaning of this, but easily assumed that these were the kids from the orphanage he overheard about.<p>

His cuffs were taken away and updated with the brace Ian explained beforehand moments ago. The red light was signaling at an once-in-a-while pace, as he was standing not too far from the perimeter of the facility- which must have had a new wing constructed due to it looking larger from before the pandemic.

"Oh hey, he's back..!" Dr. Torres announced; she was accompanied by Dr. Tachibana, some nurses, and an unknown woman. The paramedic's proud jacket was darkened, and she had a splinter or two on her legs. Her joy had evaporated when she glowered at the sullen official beside him. "Oh." Being in charge with the Chief absent, it was now her duty to...handle the mob. "Could you...give all of us a moment?" She didn't need the help of the agent's alarming presence to disperse it.

The man slid his hands into the pockets of his coat and backed up as he said coolly, "I was going to leave anyway. Good luck with your daycare." No one bothered saying goodbye with his difficult attitude. Ian walked out smoothly, deserting the other man among the herd of toddlers and minors.

"Doctor...I think it was would be wise to..." The purple-eyes of the Japanese woman next to the headstrong Maria Torres conveyed anxiety as she attempted to inform the prisoner of something.

The tallest two of the horde obstructing his path was a tan-haired boy with the same color eyes who only reached the surgeon's waist; he wore a stained white T-shirt and burnt umber shorts with plain sandals. There was evident bandaging around his head that was terribly applied, seeing that it was undoing itself gradually.

This other adolescent wore a dusty, collared top lacking color that had short sleeves and two upper pockets held by buttons; two more buttons were sewn in the center to keep the v-arch from being too wide. A silver chain plate necklace dangled around the neck and was the only visible accessory. Another distinct chain medium-sized hung out at his left for a couple of inches past the edges of the shirt; blackened shale was the color of his pants that it adorned. There were wrappings that still held onto his left arm.

So this person, the real ringleader of the stand-off, turned out have an appearance much like the convict's with the shared ruby eyes, disorganized onyx-black hair, and a thin build. But there were some variances: The eyes of this kid were lit up with some amusement, if the subtle smirk didn't display his unpredictability already. And he was about the same height as the endoscopic surgeon trying to caution-

Wait. What was the risk of standing here? Embarrassed expressions were on the faces of the staff while fear and intimidation could be read on those of the juvenile survivors. CR-SO1, who stopped observing the two next to him, stammered out in the hushed lobby, "Why are we all..."

Maria tipped her head to her left just a centimeter; she bit her lip and widened her asserted eyes at him concisely to persuade him to move. The man was about to heed to her instruction before he felt his legs bound by arms. "Hey-" It wasn't until he glanced down to see four of the small fry latching onto him with terrified looks. "What are you trying to..." He stepped back to liberate himself, but had his shoulder gripped by a hand.

Now it was the leader who was the one pinning him from leaving- the quick but powerful hand didn't quite fit the contrite face of its owner when he got pushed down. "Nngh!" The force exerted was much; it plus the fact his posture was unbalanced resulted him in tumbling down onto his side.

Tomoe had her hands over her mouth from the astonishing turn of events. Maria growled out a more aggressive reaction, "Are you out of your mind? That's a doctor you just shoved over!" She did want to get between them to stop this, but the person she just barked at was the brave hero from today's tragedy, with the boy next to him the one he saved. The kid wasn't muscular, but he was clever: He pulled off the stunt back at the fire by gaining momentum. To be more precise, he...jumped for her and used her shoulders to push himself up to the branch. Though she was angry he didn't give the heads-up about using her as a spring, what he did was literally a miracle.

And she would hate to spoil the glory now. As she reviewed the details of the dramatic escape, the renown teenager yanked on the neck of the 'hostage's' uniform.

"Erhard Muller!"

The roar came from the woman who ran the orphanage now too damaged for redemption. Her clothes and hair were unchanged as the children's, but her docile personality was nowhere to be found, as her fury surfaced to discipline the kids.

But for the paramedic, whose volume was outdone by the coordinator's, had a gut feeling that she was holding back. Which could only mean that the roughhousing didn't occur on a day-to-day basis.

Everyone that heard her was either petrified or... well, most were already petrified and about to topple over, with hardly any exceptions. The teen being named released the surgeon in the following seconds, his confidence unshaken.

But the captive still bordered with children was dismayed. "That's..." The word didn't get picked up by anyone except himself. He was taken of his freedom and memories by his late father, now it was his identity being stolen by a stranger.

'Erhard Muller' was _his_ name.

* * *

><p><strong>Ending Note (Read at your own risk...I suppose):<strong>

Yep... there's so much buildup for plot, right (-_-)? Don't freak out, the next chappies aren't going to be like this headache, with only a few focused characters... This was the prologue, and the _beginning_ so...it'll come together, just you wait...

Alicia: You're quick to forget me.

Uh... Well... *ignoring* Anyways...I'm gonna try to be IC as possible, but knowing that I have OCs and whatnot, it's not gonna be easy... And each chapter I'm aiming for 5000-7000 words with thicker paragraphs rather than the old format. If you don't like the way I wrote this...I'll go back to my old ways.

Alicia: *sighs* I know you felt bad about the story you wrote on me. Let's leave that talk for another time. I, being the representative of you, personally think that this fic right here was too much effort and showing signs of struggle against repetition (after taking hours to type up the last page). I also know the plot that you didn't find a conclusion to yet. Are you sure you can do this without..._hurting_ yourself?

I won't...die or anything... I have about 10 more chapters sorta planned out. In this one, my reference was only 5 bullets! Ahem, anyways, I'm sure you saw the genres: action and romance. Here's the bottom line: It's not really gonna be like that. I wanted to add in mystery and drama as Retribution had, but I thought the other two were more of a warning of what's coming next:

Yes, I'm pitting an OC with one of the TT characters (maybe two, but I don't think so.) It's not going to be an easy OOC, love-at-first-sight pairing. And there will be a bit of violence, but it's not coming right now! It's gonna be near... *counts* 8-9 chapters from this! Hey, Alicia, guess what's gonna happen between that? =3

Alicia: *rolls eyes* I _am_...you. If you're asking me for a prediction, leave it to the reviewers. I can only say that the following updates might contain fluff and a few obvious shockers. Oh, and your failure to keep coming up with the new vocabulary will be starting in the next sentence you write. It's not that you can 'reset' with every chapter. :p

I know! I need someone kind enough to BR my work so I won't humiliate myself! I need to prove that I'm a 9th grader! '^' So at least leave a decent review, whatever it is, heavy-criticism, motivation (please~), saying you read it, etc.

Alicia: Looks like we covered everything here. *leaves shift*

W-what? This isn't a job (though you are required to report about what I'm feeling on each chapter)! Aargh, leave her be. I have something else to say...

Alicia: Hold it. I have a hint to give to our _big_ audience. Here you go: Haruhi Suzumiya. *really leaves this time*

Huh? You mean the manga and anime series? What's that got to do with...*thinks a bit* Eh, I guess it kinda makes sense. So, I was going to add on a seriously random fact to end this note. Here goes... Okay, as I was writing the last part, I was called out to take phone orders for a carry-out restaurant. It was horrible. I don't want to do it ever again. I only wrote XD (side order of duck) once and XP (pork) twice on a check. There...I said it. Well, this is the longest A/N I'll ever do, and if you read it, I commend you! *hugs*


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- Here we go... **Last chappy before HS starts for me.

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><p><strong>02—The_Rebellion_<strong>

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><p>"This is getting ridiculous..." The moan from the woman who had overruled Maria's authority was shockingly placid. Her hands were on her wide hips, swaying the gold ring bracelets she wore on her wrists. She didn't mean to scare the youngsters with her tempered yells; her proof was through the openhearted frown to the smaller tots, who were starting to form a group hug with their stuffed animals included.<p>

The numerous staff in the back were consulting amongst themselves, scheming a way to solve the awkward problem. Although the visitor was being held in confinement with the line of children in the way, they had the equipment and supplies in their clutches, while the opponent held neither. This resistance was running on fumes, awfully futile to even begin with.

CR-SO1, who was lifting himself from being grounded, heard someone trying to communicate to him sneakily. "Psst. Doctor..." He judged the direction of the utterance to be from behind him, where the second tallest boy was. Remaining stationary, he focused on the message what was being sent: "Can you...help all of us? Please..!" The plea was spoken in despair, which led the surgeon to rethink his next course of action to take. He couldn't brush aside the begging and flee from them like a coward.

"Man, where's the Chief when you need her...?" Dr. Torres soughed, her fiery blood near a boiling point. She just got through one of the worst accidents she had seen in her career, watching an asylum tear apart, devastated, and getting a report of three casualties in the mix-up. Now she was demoted to the lowly chore of making this bunch of trembling brats behave?

Tomoe Tachibana, who was limiting out any unwanted, lurid tactics the faculty in the rear of the room had to propose, kept her grace. She wished that all the drastic measures that would only cause emotional grief could be averted, putting to mind that the opposition was merely a group of bewildered adolescents. "There must be a method to pacify their hostility toward us. If we understood what the purpose of this conflict was, maybe then can we find a way to settle this..." The listeners concurred; they confessed that the ulterior motive of this fiasco wasn't on their minds when they were counseling.

But the thought did pass through the mind of the diagnostician speculating from above. The state of affairs looked quite tricky to deal with, which made sense why Esha was separating herself from it. There was only one thing he had to say: "Have fun with this." His teeth pressed on his cigarette as he savored the manager's frantic reaction. He was the one that was divorced. Don't depend on him for all your questions about child obedience like some aged guru, 'cause he wasn't one.

"Gabe..!" Chief Patel tugged on the man's ponytail with her frenzied croak. The man, thwarted from scampering back to his rag-tag office, respired as he glanced back at the lady acting spineless. She wasn't eager to face the music and was putting him on the spot by snarling, "You can't just ditch me here!"

"Oh I can, Esha. And I think I will." Dr. Cunningham idly jostled her aside and took out the unlit cigarette from his mouth to declare intrepidly, "Hey guys, Esha is coming down in a sec!" He inserted the smoke back where it was and grinned at the stupefied chief.

The woman's turquoise earrings that were suspended juddered at her restrained scold, "Have you gone insane? You bird-brained idiot...!" Out of her wrath, she relentlessly blamed, "I just hired you back and you do this to me? Did you hit your head on something?" The betrayal was inhumane in her opinion, but the doctor stayed resolute with his slick fashion of doing things- after all, his surname had the word 'cunning' for a reason.

Gabriel remarked at her haughtily, "That's weird, because I thought you're the one with throat problems." The insult was more effective than all four of her statements combined, as his was verified with the lady's subdued voice and dropped jaw. He flaunted the canteen in his hold and excused himself, "Now, if you'll-"

"Well, don't take your time, Esha! As your older sister, I have the right to ask you to get down here!" The bellow again. But after this one, the staff below were more stunned than discouraged.

The younger sibling didn't have the energy to regret putting her faith on the knavish traitor, who mouthed the word 'oh' as his impression from the enlightening yell. A shaky fist was held up to the man before she set it back down and shouted, "Hold on sis...I'm coming!" With her relative rigorously calling for her, there was no turning back as she strutted downstairs, loathing every bit of the mirthful double-crosser.

He, on the other hand, decided to dawdle for the mini-diversion as he watched the lady prance down, doing her best to maintain a positive mannerism about it. His amber eyes suddenly tuned to the agonized specialist, who had recovered from his friendly...trip.

Being amidst a plethora of feeble kids their strong-willed leaders, the man could delete the term 'run' from his list of strategies. It was true that he could maneuver himself out of this with a lunge, but he couldn't neglect their youth and frail condition. At any rate, he wasn't going anywhere, particularly when he heard the same whisperer request uncomfortably, "You see, Mary, Tina, and a lot of others...they...um...don't like getting shots. Can you tell them not to give us any?" The favor was odd, and didn't seem to be the true objective of the hysteria being made. "Come on, you gotta help!" The prisoner had another round of fear-stricken looks from the followers and the benevolent but clumsy grin from 'Erhard' as he wavered on his decision.

Chief Patel reunited with her employees and distraught sister, using an alibi to appear innocent. Her grudge on the diagnostician upstairs would have to be taken care of later as she was now undertaking the painful job she had shirked earlier. She had a hand on the back of her neck in uncertainty and said, "Diane, I'm sorry about your orphanage...but I can't-" The words 'deal with them' were soon to come out, but were cut off when she met a bitter glare from the mentioned woman.

"You're 'sorry?' Esha, my business just got turned into ashes and that's all you can say? You're lucky I don't have to borrow your money because of insurance, but this outrageous!" The orchestrator took less than a minute to ostracize the manager and continued doing so with an indoor voice, "And you haven't even found a husband yet...when will you ever contribute to the family?" The harsh words ringed in the atmosphere; the one victim of the accusations flustered beyond belief.

Maria and Tomoe both had dazed glances from the side as the rest of the appalled nurses and doctors paced deeper in the lobby. Gabriel, who Esha imagined reveling in the her trauma, was, in reality, keeping a settled disposition. But he did have a dreadful premonition of what his punishment would be as a result of his foul play. CR-SO1 had a similar conserved pose, while his imitator was at last exhibiting an edgy composure.

"What was the cause of the fire in the first place?" The paramedic intervened with a high level of interest. The subject she brought up has hooked the others, and created a look of sensitivity on the woman Esha called Diane, or 'Mrs. Kimberly' from sections of the juvenile crowd .

The endoscopic surgeon had her eyes in the direction of the questioner and muttered in confusion, "I thought it was from...are you saying that someone did this on purpose?" The air of the building has become denser, as the confirmation was never made. "Why would someone do such a thing?" Her gullibility only intensified it and it peaked with the whodunit looks from those around her, specifically the two who spoke to the grieving headmaster just now.

The one that was the focal point of everyone was consoled by her younger sister as she shook her head in angst. Rubbing her thick arms as if the temperature was frigid, she said, "I only picked up on some of the gossip. The person behind the fire is said to be..." A wobbly hand was used for targeting the culprit. "You. You didn't really, right..?"

This offender was the oldest of the specialist's 'welcoming committee,' the teenager with the coal-black hair. He was unresponsive to the disclosure and didn't even wince from the accusal, not even when Maria blasted, "I don't know if you really did it, but rescuing a boy isn't going to cut it! Three kids died back there-!" Her words were met with a sense of solitariness, so she countered, "Don't give me that, just come clean and tell us!" Fists without gloves were curled as she was provoked to move closer to the cluster of children for the verification.

No one tried to barricade her from the charge. The youngsters that once stood in her path scurried to the sides; they wore the same torn expression as their guardian, whose audacious tone was substituted by malaise. The surgeon unsteadily remained as he was, as the boy Maria remember seeing unconscious doused her ire by swearing, "Erhard would never hurt us! I promise to you that he didn't start it!" He compelled his allies to help him by flailing his hands. "Right, guys?" They responded like a storm in their numbers; their cries of 'yeah' and 'definitely' substantially overwhelmed the incoming tigress.

She wasn't the sort of person that could turn down the cute puppy faces and the deplorable yet extremely adorable whining. It was a no-can-do for for her, so she jerked the arm of CR-SO1, hinting for him to break loose from the lot with the escape route wide open. But she was disapproved of the idea when she heard, "They just don't want shots..."

"Huh?" Her jacket slipped down her shoulders as she cocked her eyebrows, displaying an you've-got-to-be-kidding look. She couldn't believe the entire farce was over a few needles, and delivered the news as she ran her hand through her hair. "Chief...all these guys want is to...not have shots." Her legs grew limb from seeing the steamed and startled responses. Tomoe stood out the most with her cheeks becoming rosy from the shame of not realizing sooner.

Anticipating that the obscure goal of the flock was silly since the very beginning, the chagrined woman in the tangerine and brown dress sighed, "Must you all be so childish..." She heard her sister try to relax from the scolding and said in a talkative mood, "You're not going to give them any, right, Esha?"

The Chief dusted off her purple shirt with a cocky 'hah.' In her bragging tone, she announced, "The treatment for them is free. If they don't want it, it's fine with me. They all get one night here, that's it. I'll let a few stay behind for any medical aid..." She waved back as she headed to her office, giving out last-minute orders in a less avid tone, "The rest will be discussed at tomorrow's conference. Oh, Tomoe, show the kid around. Maria, you and the staff get the kids and Diane to the empty rooms in hall C..." Her departure was forgotten as the interns and nurses dealt with the galore of children, leading a group at a time upstairs.

Dr. Torres ran off to find the owner of the demolished orphanage some lodging while Dr. Tachibana came to the returning specialist. But before she could escort the man to his quarters, her eyes observed the leader of the resistance slumping down against a column at the side of the entrance with the second eldest boy beside him. She murmured to the other doctor watching the same thing, "Is he alright?" She acknowledged this one's pain and called, "Can someone-"

"Wait." The interruption was from the surgeon as he held out his arm to stop her. He took this chance to ask his former assailant, "Why did you push me over like that? I would have listened if you told me-" He paused when he saw a smirk on the lips of the tired teen and was about to demand for a better apology- and confront the imitator until the orphan next to him spoke up.

"Don't be angry at him, doctor..! All he did was try to help us..." He defended despite them being grownups. This moved Tomoe, who said 'I understand' right away, and quieted the unnerved prisoner. They listened to him for his introduction, "I'm Gary...and I'm sure you know Erhard's name by now... Um..." Pondering on what else to say, he took time to show his gratefulness, "Thanks a lot for talking for us back there..."

As the endoscopic surgeon told her name in a delighted voice, the surgeon stayed motionless, still alarmed by the so-called hero that almost resembled him. He saw the smile become a stressful scowl from suffering through the injuries and noted, "He's hurt. We need someone look at his wounds."

The chatter between Tomoe and Gary was ended as the boy scatted over to his friend, asking, "Hey, are you okay...?" He was driven back with a hand and gulped in fright. "Are you sure..? How come you always help everyone but don't let them help you back?" There was no answer, so the boy looked at the doctors with an rueful frown. "I don't think he'll say yes to your medicine..."

"Oh...but if it worsens, Erhard, please tell someone." The Japanese woman walked deeper into the building, telling the man to follow. "This way." Just he turned around, the nurses came to accompany the last of the orphans to their rooms. They attempted to assist the sitting teenager to stand, but were forced aside. The rough adolescent only accepted his friend's support, but eventually spurned away from any contact.

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><p>"He has quite the energy..." The one giving him a tour said as her summary of the rash yet considerate orphan. Seeing that there wasn't any significance to the topic, she threw it aside and warmly directed him to his room. "This is where you'll be staying for you time here...What do you think?" The amount of walking wasn't tedious; traveling from the lobby to the room consumed less than a minute of time. Even better, this area wasn't as clamorous and was about ten meters from the most accessible OR.<p>

CR-SO1 had only two words to say about his designated room: "It's decent." As Ian had guaranteed, there were no bars. The dim room had the same dimensions of the one he was kept in prior to the quarantine. There was a lamp beside the well-refined desk and its black padded chair in the front and one of the beds for patients in the back; the most defining part of the accommodation was the window covered with blinds and... "What is that..?"

"Ah, I see that you've noticed the dresser..." Tomoe laughed as she tapped on the side of the wooden piece of furniture that was beautifully carved. It had five drawers total with two bronze handles on each and a mirror on the side. She blissfully gave the backstory of how it came to be, "Well, when Chief gave us the report that you would be operating here for a whole year, Dr. Cunningham suggested that you would need a new wardrobe..." After studying the uncomplicated, white uniform of the convict, she couldn't oppose the recommendation. "I personally made the preparations for this...um...so please make use of it."

Without giving him an opportunity to object, she proceeded by opening some drawers to show the contents. The lowest of the drawers was chock-full of reading material; the top of the furniture also served as a counter for some of them. "Dr. Cunningham has also...donated some of his collection to you." Three compartments above it were filled to the brim with clothes. With a fluctuating voice, the endoscopic surgeon professed while shutting them closed and reaching for the top one, "I actually don't know how Hanzou gathered these...they are all new."

Before the highest drawer, the one that seemed most important, was pulled out, Dr. Tachibana guessed, "I can tell that you find this one...very peculiar by now." She dropped her hands from revealing the inside; guilt came to her as she spoke, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's empty." Her head was lowered to the side as she meditated for a purpose the vacant space could be utilized for, but came to nothing.

"That's alright. You have done so much already..." All CR-SO1 had predict from his cell was to have some mancave with no bars, adequate heating, and a bed. He didn't see to even have the luxury of lights and windows, let alone a furnished desk with storage, a chair with armrests, and a supplied dresser including a mirror. He was privileged to have such things at his disposal...

Something lit up in the woman's eyes and she said, "Oh-! Gifts...and perhaps...when you have earned enough money, one of us could buy you what you want." The proposition slipped by the his ears with only one word recorded.

"Money...?"

Dr. Tachibana went to the window and pushed the blinds to the side to let in the setting sun's rays. "Yes. The terms of the...agreement; I believe that you are able to possess some monetary wealth." She spun around to look at the wall above the doorway, where the surgeon discovered a classic, round clock was. "I should hurry..." She speedily went through the items inside the desk without touching it, "There is a first-aid kit...packed by Maria, writing instruments and... I'll let you explore the rest."

She dismissed herself with a smile and her farewell: "If you need anything, I will be glad to come to your aid...See you tomorrow morning, doctor." She was a foot into the hall and out of sight with a left turn.

The man glanced back into his office. He had beyond the means and methods to regain his freedom. There was just one thing that concerned him, it wasn't his workload, nor was it the rules of this bargain he was given. It was this:

'See you tomorrow morning_, doctor.' _That particular word, 'doctor.' No one had yet asked for his name. If they did, what would he say?

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><p>"Chief, it's not like you to be late. What happened?" Maria, unpleasant from the early appointment, was more annoyed to see the manager being tardy by ten minutes. The paramedic, being always the first to arrive due to her lack of patience, was foiled at that accomplishment today by the specialist- it wasn't fair since he <em>lived<em> here. She had to cover miles from her apartment on a motorbike while he only had to take a short stroll.

There were three more that waited in the conference room, one of them not at all grumpy from Esha's arrival as he moved a cigarette back and forth in his mouth. Across from him was a well-known companion of his, Dr. Hank Freebird. The giant was informed of yesterday's string of events from the rest who were there and quick to be intrigued by them.

The overseer of the ward dumped her mountain of papers on the longtable that divided the room, taking all the unsuspecting doctors by surprise. You would scarcely see her breathless and having her palms on the edge of the table with her hair from her bun coming undone even with the sparkly hairclip. "Diane..."

So the spontaneous sister of their boss _happened_. That woman must have coerced her younger sibling to spare some housing for a couple of the fire's victims. But Resurgam First Care, having gone under mass improvement, would have surplus of rooms no matter the season. Five or so could be taken without a difference to the number. Unless...

"So you signed up the entire orphanage?" Dr. Cunningham, caring less, had no preference for his patients. As long as they weren't making his job any harder than it needs to be, he'll be satisfied about the salary. Most kids were honest these days; the decision wouldn't hurt him. After a enduring a belittling stare, he broke away to plead his case, "Just saying. Hurry and tell us what went on with her and get it over with."

Chief Patel hid her distaste with a sour grin, "Well it's not that, Gabe." She puffed up her chest and lectured out the arrangement that was made, "They're going to move into the old orphanage next to Maine Medical south from here." The sentence hit Dr. Torres the hardest, as she knew precisely where it was. "We got about five staying here for another day and the two oldest for three weeks..."

"You must mean Gary and Erhard." The names were memorized by Tomoe. She could understand that the injuries of those boys deserved hospitalization, but the stay was too prolonged. "Why must it be three weeks?" For the commoner, days in the infirmary cost thousands of dollars. There must have been something unique that had yet to be told.

Esha's earrings jingled as she shrugged. "It was better than all of them staying. And only one wanted to be treated." Tipping her chin upward, she said, "Diane said the other kid would be eighteen by then. He has to volunteer here to compensate for his stay." Her hands were on her hips as she grumbled in vexation, "So far I couldn't find anyone that would take him. He's lucky that the firefighters recovered his stuff in a suitcase. I think I can...kick him out."

Not a soul uttered back. In an ideal world, they could take in anyone, but this wasn't an inn with a normal weekly fee...

"I'll take him, Chief."

The outburst came from the impulsive first responder. "He's pretty fast on his feet; he could help me out with some errands..." She has gone through the same life obstacles with her parents dying, setting her orphanage on fire unintentionally, and saving someone from the flames- she was automatically the most affiliated with that kid already.

"But Maria..." The woman with makeup bit her lip, for there was something that she hadn't mentioned to anyone.

"I'm not letting you toss him out into the streets." She didn't give her a chance to say anything, as she was certain there was no excuse to be said. "I don't care if he had med training or not, that doesn't mean-"

"He's mute."

There was a second long pause. Those that got dragged into the madness suddenly wiped off what they had evaluated about the troubling orphan. There was the talk of him and the arson that would make him a juvenile delinquent; before he didn't motion a yes or no when interrogated. Now the paramedic comprehended why there was no warning about his leap of faith the other day: he couldn't give one. "That's fine-!" Her empathy only increased as she fought for the cause.

"Let's give him one more day...you can do whatever you want with him tomorrow morning, as long as it's work." Esha exhaled and shot a look at the diagnostician, who was looking at the proposal with doubt. "I'm not putting her in charge of that kid for the full day. You have the later shifts, so get that kid lunch and dinner." She didn't bother taking in his protest and faced the endoscopic and orthopedic surgeons to say, "Hank, Tomoe... I want you two to keep an eye on the other kid, he's twelve and shouldn't be running around until we have someone check out his injuries..." Her brown eyes didn't look back as she cited the one smoking again, "I'll let you do that, Gabe. Today would be splendid."

The man didn't show any dissent; he would only if he wasn't getting paid for the excess service. "Have it your way..." He glimpsed back for the time and praised sarcastically, "You've done great on your timing. Now I'm late for an exam- Excuse me." His farewell was plainly given. Without gesturing back, he stepped past the door. "And sorry about the rude welcome, kid." The words came out of nowhere, and he was gone before the specialist could act.

"Tomoe showed you most of place, right?" The Chief Surgeon used an insouciant tone to keep speaking without Dr. Cunningham. A courteous smile was seen from the Asian doctor in the back, allowing her to carry on with the daily agenda. The prisoner was assigned three operations today, and tomorrow only one procedure to cut some slack. The last issue addressed was the monetary reward to be gained. "You get ten to twenty bucks after each one. Use that to get some food from the cafeteria. You get that and two years off for each surgery...sound good?"

CR-SO1 complied to what she said with the inclination of his head. Although the layout of the building was a little cloudy to him, he looked as if he had been a real employee: Under his lab coat he had on a sharp dress shirt with a stiff collar and buttoned cuffs at his wrists. Black pants were worn with some nice umber shoes. He wasn't really a visitor now, hence the missing identification tag. Only the tracker band below his right cuff represented his business here.

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><p>The conference and repetition of 'welcome back' was done with after a half-hour. He passed the first two operations with flying colors, demonstrating that his skills never dulled over the one week in isolation. The intros to the patients he needed to work on; fortunately no one asked for his name so far. Nevertheless, he would be a free man within months at the pace he was operating at.<p>

This couldn't be that easy. Why would the officials let him out with just a hundred or so operations? "...Something isn't right..." But he shouldn't be putting much thought into it. They gave him the chance; he'll take it. It was more considerable than wasting his life rotting in jail. But filling out documents for your patients was...something he could pass up. The only thing that would occupy him was the procedure.

"Yo kid..." The surgeon spotted the husky, olive hair of the diagnostician before the clipboard in his hand. He leaned into the office, passively critiquing, "So this is your room... Huh, not too shabby." For a felon, the housing and furniture was a bit lavish. He was restless when he mumbled, "I see Tomoe took the wardrobe thing literally..." It was the specialist's second day here, and even though the room was spaced out, it truly seemed to be his.

"What do you want?" The message was crystal clear to the doctor coming by. Even if the door was open, knocking would be appreciated.

"Can't you accept 'just looking' as an excuse?" The grunt he made to the tensed young adult had him turn back to his desk. Gabriel took a minute faltering about leaving. "You got a couple of visitors already, so I'll come back another time." The blue clipboard he had with him hit against the surface of the wooden door as he turned around and disappeared into the halls. "He obviously doesn't want it..." His words were nearly inaudible.

"'Couple of visitors..already?'" The resting doctor just came back five minutes ago. No one except that man...

"What do we do..? The doctor..."

"Who's-" He found the mussitation familiar. Pushing off of the ledge of his desk, he rolled back in his chair and spun to inspect the opposite side of the room. "You two..." The 'visitors' were more of 'trespassing' outsiders. "What are you doing in here?"

'Doing' was right. Behind the mattress and rack of the bed was a huddled boy that grinned gawkily. He stood up with being exploited and said, "Sorry..." The accomplice concealing himself in the corner between the dresser and wall was the copycat of the surgeon's. The seventeen year-old was curled up with his arms folded on his knees. With the cover blown, he let his legs out before getting cramped for too long- he put a palm on his forehead with a face of 'nevermind' when hearing the other. These two orphans were the ones to be marrooned at the hospital, Gary and 'Erhard.'

Maintaining his composure wasn't on the specialist's mind, as he saw this as a joke. Resisting the short temper that urged him to dispel the intruders, he waited to hear the self-justification. If it was the same 'I don't want a shot,' then he'll shoo them away. The child able to speak pointed to the reclined teen that was basking in the lukewarm bedroom. "Erhard doesn't trust that other doctor...because he was using drugs."

CR-SO1 couldn't disagree with the irony. But that diagnostician rarely lit his cigarette around others and was normally caught holding it in his mouth unlit. In the OR and in times of crisis, he was like any other medical professional- he would foolishly bring it around then. "It doesn't mean you that should avoid him." The red eyes of the now docile adolescent was rolled, mocking the prisoner. "If you don't need anything else here, go."

"But-"

The mute rose up with the single-word command and clutched onto the hand of the timid boy. Pulling him to the exit without heeding any remonstration from him. "Ow...You don't have to push!" Before shoving him out, the silent teenager flashed an impish smirk at the doctor and flipped the door shut with a yank on the knob. The shouts from the decade-old child could be heard past the slab of wood:

"I didn't get to say thank you to that guy... So now what do we do?" He sounded lost but within a second he bumbled out, "H-hey, wait up!" A rain of footsteps poured and the two were gone.

The person alone in the office just finished reading over a file. Though he was anxious to recover his name, the one who had it seemed careless about encountering the legitimate owner. And for a minor of no words, he was very...shrewd.

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><p>Alicia: That's a...great hook you have there.<p>

I know. Don't push your luck.

Alicia: I wasn't. You just did a good job to making the first few OCs...understandable.

(...) Next chappy Maria and Gabe get the focus, I think. Oh- and Hank will be missing out on 90% of the story...sorry. I'll try to get him in somewhere later on... *still dreading HS*


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **I'm sorry it took a month to get this up! (I suppose its the same reason as everyone else out there: school.)

Well... I won't say I had too much trouble with this one...it's just that I had little to no time to work on this. Anyways, enjoy!

PS. Lots of names outside of TT are being said in here. Some are made-up and some are actually important. So... you keeping a list? Yes. Get that paper and pencil. Nao. Write 'em down.

Just kidding. XD

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><p><strong>03—The_Labor_<strong>

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><p>It was exactly 7 AM. She was about fifteen feet from the destination. After making several tapping noises with her sneakers, she couldn't stand around any longer. She needed to make was a head-on dash straight down the hallway, and burst into the room (not breaking anything in the process or else something will show up on her bills). Acceleration was crucial, but so was turning the knob of the entrance. What she must do was pass that stout door, and start the day with...<p>

"RISE AND SHINE!"

Maria Torres, her adrenaline kicking in an hour ago, hollered at her maximum volume. Not only did the patient room she was in rocked, the wing of the intact facility vibrated from her perked up yell. All she desired was to awaken the recruited 'apprentice' with the explosion, and that goal was half-met. "You're already up..?" Her letdown was overcame with disgrace as the paramedic scratched the brown hair of her bob-cut, knowing she just gave an early wake-up call to everyone else on this side of the infirmary. "Uh..."

'Erhard Muller' had finished putting his shirt on seconds before the woman got through the rusted lock of the door in her earthshaking voice. He wasn't as brisk as before, with a skeptical 'exactly what do you think you're doing' look flat on his face. He observed the lively visitor shout back into the hospital in turmoil, "Sorry about that!" But his keen eyes were more concentrated on the spare EMT jacket in her gloved hand.

"Geez..." She may have been too hyper this morning; maybe breakfast was the factor. "I'll just knock next time." When she turned back to the easygoing teenager's room, she had quieted down to take a peek at his dormitory- it was like any other patient room she's been in, except it was a little...grand in size. There was also that ragtag suitcase of his belongings the Chief mentioned under the bed. For a guy, the place was in ship-shape; she foreseen herself entering some revolting hideaway from a kid used to the ancient bedchambers of an orphanage. "You're organized."

Without expecting any backtalk from a mute, she chucked the brand-new jacket to the humbled tyke. "It was this or the highway... Wear it so you fit in with the team." The jacket was the smallest size, and it still looked bulky on him; the boy had to roll the sleeves up for his hand to show. "You don't mind eating breakfast later, do you?" A shake of the head. How hard can this get? The good side of working with a soundless person was that you don't get to hear his ranting and get to do all the teaching without a problem; she liked that.

"Come on." Her orange goggles and hair were suspended in the air as she gestured towards herself and flew out of the room. Sprinting in a hospital wasn't illegal if no one was going about, was her thought. "We're not gonna make it to the old ward fast enough by just walking-!" Racing a kid a decade younger than yourself may have be an air-headed idea, but it was a guy- there was no reason for Maria to hold back for him. She could hear his rhythmic footsteps from behind, so no need to check on him.

Their game of 'follow the leader' ended as they reached the fond 'workplace' of the Resurgam first response team. The roof was still in place; dust and cobwebs only clumped in the barren corners. It was tranquil...for now. "This is kinda like an HQ for the team...let's keep going."

The backroom of the homely ward needed much help. The definition of this 'help' was: sorting out all the sad heaps of musty crates and jumble of wrenches and carpenter tools. During the pandemonium the Rosalia Virus caused, the faculty have been...abusing this storehouse. With the addition of a new wing the past week, the mess just went...exponential. The place was horrendous- it looked like a walk-in closet that a kindergartener used as a garbage dump.

This kid she brought with her was an orderly person, so the woman thought. He looked like he got stabbed just from glimpsing at the story-high stack of cardboard containers. "Hey, don't pass out. I know this is going to be rough..." Dr. Torres breathed; she chortled on the volunteer's dreaded face. "Hah, maybe I should've gotten you something to eat...my bad."

Thankfully, he was literate.

But that didn't really came to benefit them. As hauling containers about was a job for strength, the paramedic depended on the kid to get down to the dirty work. To her surprise, he couldn't get one of the larger cases up without her giving him a hand. But that wasn't bad at all. He was smart and fast; that was all she needed around, not those robust morons that title themselves as pros. "Wish those idiots were all like you...Sometimes they drive me nuts."

It wasn't until that day the bus crashed into the second floor of Atlus Mall did she make peace with those jerks... They weren't all bad; Kevin, Darnell, and Tyler...to name a few. Her overall opinion on the group was that they did the job, just some more diligently than others. "If you didn't know, I'm in charge of the whole team...it sounds like a busy job, but it gets kinda lonely when I'm back here."

Not a sound came out of the volunteer, who was about to start sweeping after collecting all of the scraps and loose pieces of equipment from the floor. The other talking was shaken up from her tattling being pushed aside by the mute. "...Sorry. I...you're kinda facing the same thing, right?" The guy was the eldest of the orphans and quiet for life, she would be lying if she said he was happy where he was.

Erhard only caused her to blow some steam by twisting his head to the side and continuing to slide the straw broom back and forth. To not look like he was acting deaf on purpose, he shrugged as he glanced back. The woman huffed out an immense amount of air, suppressing herself from exhibiting her temper for the kid first-hand. "I guess I should let you go early... cleaning this place up is impossible..." Hearing her connoting a discharge for the day, he stopped the broom and put on a smirk.

A melodic ringing noise crushed that joy. "That's my cell...hold on a sec..."

The manager's voice filled the room when she spoke on the line, _"Maria- there's an accident on Old Ferry and Carson, I need you over there!" _The phone was held back a foot from the woman's ears, so the roaring won't poke the paramedic's eardrum. _"Hey, are you listening?"_

Dr. Torres put the phone back up to her mouth just to say, "I got it. Just gimme five to ten minutes." The boss was first to hang up, the employee came in a close second, flipping the device closed and spinning around to her apprentice. In most cases, she would shoot straight to the garage and zip to the scene of the accident on her motorbike. "Dammit, I don't have time to get you to Gabe..." His office was on the other side of the hospital. He may be excited to take on the baby-sitting job, but she can't waste another precious minute here.

The teenager momentarily thought to himself, then tugged on the green collar of the loose jacket, his face had another questioning look; the smirk that died earlier was revived with the idea. If the coat was meant for him to 'fit in with the team,' then let it serve that role. In short, he was cuing her to let him come along.

Bringing a rookie with zero medical training was either plain bravery or plain stupid. But this kid was not at all uptight with the imminent danger; he was taking this for real. "But..." He didn't have the smarts of even the trainees, the elbow grease to transport the victims, or the words to alert the other EMTs. "You're..." The word 'useless' never got spoken. "This isn't like an arcade game, this is actual people dying..!"

The guy only rerolled his sleeves in response.

'Bring it on.'

* * *

><p>The high spirits only lasted until they came to the scene. The exclamation that never stopped repeating was: "My god." Maria happened to grumble the same as she took off her goggles from the once exhilarating ride. The passenger behind her squinted at the sparks of the hazy air.<p>

A toppled truck and stacked cars created an impassable hill not interpretable by physics on the crossroad. The puffs of charcoal smoke ascended into the grim sky. It was only morning, yet the clouds were gray and traffic was at its worst as this mound and the assembly of ambulances blocked all four ways. People got nowhere; the horns and the squalls of the drivers came to the first responders like a swarm of bees.

Quick to scrounge up a pair of first aid kits from her co-workers, Dr. Torres set off into the riot after handing the second kit to the disguised teen. She found an excess amount of stabilizer and arbitrarily gave the capped needles to him. Her advice: "Do what you can!" He was out of her view when she turned to the nearest victims. Everything she could name was found on the survivors: crooked ankles and arms, lacerations from glass, and some wheezing from the smoke. Hemorrhaging was the least of her worries. Fretting about the boy became second nature as she treated the families injured in destruction.

In twenty minutes, she begun yelling, "Is there anyone else in there?" The pad of gauze in her hand was soaked in blood as she surveyed the crash site for those still requiring urgent care. The rubble consisted of its dented vehicles and thick fog, nothing more. Monster truck on the bottom, topped with a black car here and a blue one there...and... "(What the- there's some police cars...)" The conditions on how this pile came to be led off to some chaotic assumptions, none had the chance to be looked over.

What caught her ear was the parched voice of the woman she was providing help to. "I have a daughter...she's six..." Coughs of the victim stopped her from going on. The doctor gave the 'we'll find her' answer as she dabbed the rest of the blood up from the arm that once was loaded with glass fragments. The top layer of gauze was sodden with antibiotic gel, the last step with the bandaging was near completion.

The paramedic hunched down to apply the last strip of tape on before she heard from afar, "What are you trying to pull, runt-!" Such a loathsome bark had her reflexes cause her to sprout up after covering the laceration with the blue slip. She positioned her head to the left when picking up a collaboration of men lash out, "Get outta here-!"

A second's worth of observation was all Maria needed to fathom the source of the racket. Quivering on the sidewalk was the slightly injured girl in a tattered skirt that was being watched over by Erhard; until he made contact with the asphalt road, courtesy of the oblivious trio of interns from Resurgam's dispatched team. "Hey, leave him alone!" The amateurs retreated onto the cracked, black pavement with leader's dictation. "He's one of us, quit messing around!" They squinched and scampered back into the conjugation of people and vehicles. The spectators did the same.

The teenager suffered a minor scratch on his check; after wiping his forehead, he gave a thumbs up with a hand stamped with specks of ash. The woman let out a long but complacent sigh with her hands situated on the belt of her nifty shorts. The pupils of her green eyes centered on the fixed up scrapes on one of the girl's arms. The tape was attached onto her in different directions; though it may look sloppy, but it was beyond proficient for a novice. Plus she wasn't the only _kid_ he took care of- a bunch of other children had the same... artistic work. "Man, you're pretty good at this..! Let me guess, all of that was run of the mill at that orphanage..?"

Before the guy could gesture back, the one standing on the sidewalk dashed to her mother that laid on the ground, the lady Maria was about to transport. Her cry of 'mommy' was a tender scene for the others close by. A more well-known yell could be heard from faraway, "Dr. Torres! We've found every last one! We should get them back to Resurgam-!" The blue hair and sweater of Nurse Sellers was seen about thirty meters away, beside the active ambulances.

"Right-!" Was the lady's answer. She glanced at the stacked up cars for one last time before issuing commands to her subordinates about the remaining victims. The status of the site looked stable, except to the volunteer, whose rejoicing shifted to dubiety. "Something wrong, kid?" The mute had lifted his chin to the pancake of metal; she turned around with a disinclined expression.

The worst thing that could happen was that the arrangement of trashed automobiles decided to separate. So far, they still loomed over them like a monument. "Uh...What are you looking-" The shrilling sirens and horns became strangely quiet as a wispy image appeared, hovering over the mount. "!...That...can't be-" This vision she had formed into a shape of a girl with gorgeous pink eyes and clustered silver hair. This illusion had a face of anguish when met with the paramedic's bewildered one.

"R-rose..?" The virus had been eradicated from the earth...what was she doing here? Maria turned away to affirm if the boy had received the same premonition from the ghost. He was in the right direction, but his narrowed eyes... "(If he doesn't see her, then what is he-)"

A creaking sound of bending steel came out of the blue. It outmatched the blaring noises of the buildup of cars, attracting the citizens and workers like a magnet.

"_Get away-!_"

The faded outburst was picked up by the appalled woman, but the manifesting soul was nowhere to be found. Below where Rosalia was laid the pride of the abominable masterpiece, a shiny red minivan compacted in the rear. Similar to the finale of a game of chess, it began to tip over; its 'checkmate' inescapable. Its impact was bound to leave a mark in the road...

And destined to whirl towards Maria. Talk about chances.

"Everyone, **move**!" Only the mother and child braced for their certain doom despite the EMT's scream. "Damn-!" Hustling forward, she heaved the injured parent and went to safety as the car rebounded from its tumble. There was a yelp from the mother, signaling that there was still one person in the path of destruction left to pull out. "(The girl-!)" By the time Dr. Torres set the victim down, it was too late for another run.

The deformed car whizzed past her in its rocky course, its opened doors shredded off from the collision. The situated doctor was just inches from touching the its sparks, awe-struck to see the front of vehicles from the morning commute served only as a minor buffer for its skid. But the thick air became tremendously overwhelming as that girl was missing from where she was last.

Across the zone where the car's rampage took place was a pair of kids laying closely by one another on the surface; the one with the wrinkled jacket rolled from his side to his back, breathing heavily with a alleviated smile. However, the one saved braced herself up with the unscathed elbow and soon to weep over her other arm that undergone more bruises from the dashing move.

Crawling over to her daughter in her own pain, the woman was able to soothe the girl with a few words, including a hoarse 'thank you' to the adolescent. The keeper of the 'trainee' was stricken with something other than relief. "That was..." She broke off and hid her tiny jealousy of the speedster with humor, "You're damn good at running, kid." If she were to approximate the space he had between the trouncing chunk of iron and himself, then the his feet were a hair from being amputated. "I think you deserve a big lunch."

The flatter brought a disapproving look to his face when given. "Wait, you got hurt?" The sudden approach instantly got him to sit up with an insecure refusal to her help. "I guess that means no...but don't be hiding stuff, 'kay?" The mute smeared off more of the black residue from the coat before steadying his legs and coming up. His head was orientated to gaze at the mass of vehicles awaiting relocation; his eyes turned vermilion in the glare from the rays of sunlight coming through the dense bog. Although he still seemed to be daydreaming, he went along with Maria for a returning ride on the motorcycle, the excitement sapped out of him.

* * *

><p>As elementary as 'get him a big lunch' was, if you said it to <em>this<em> certain person at _this _specific hour and at _this_ forsaken place all somehow at the same time... then you might as well **ask** _him_ to take a hike off a short cliff. "You've gotta be kidding me." A _very, very_ short cliff.

The deflating volume of the middle-aged man's groan emanated throughout the exquisitely fashioned exam room while he put his hand on his forehead. It wasn't just the tip of the iceberg for him- it's the last stretch of his leniency for finishing up chores for the rest of the staff. He didn't need to exaggerate how much he needed a break, for it was inscribed all over his face.

He had a succeeding appointment in the next few minutes and was in a hospital. 'Getting lunch' was easier said than _after_ his 11:30 lunch intermission (that he spent being dragged across the mall by Hank and his buddy, mind you)."Well then..." Fighting to keep his good old composure from turning nasty, he spun around in his chair to his 'patient,' who appeared to have recently been evacuated from an volcano eruption.

No.

Take that and multiply it by...let's say, ten. The boy's once white shirt was blotted with charcoal-gray in the front and his cheeks speckled, not to mention the twin of carmine eyes blazing at him like some beast. A hungry one. "Geez...Did you just come down a chimney or something? Christmas comes in December, kid." The diagnostician didn't need to read 'July' on the pinned up calendar in his office for that one. He did check the analog clock on RONI, though. Seconds to go. "I'm kinda busy right now. Go get yourself a change of clothes and...grab something to eat in the lounge while I finish working. Capische?"

Distracted by the unilluminated cigarette, Erhard didn't leave as fast Gabriel had hoped for. "Hey, I'm know this isn't the happiest moment in your life, but ya gotta...get on with it. Sorry." The motivation was poor, so he added, "The lounge is downstairs from here, if you didn't know. Go and help yourself." Seeing he was more unconvinced, the man drew up a pen from a plastic container to his left and displayed a writing pose with the packet of patient info already filled out on the desk. "Esha didn't mention anything about deafness..." It was great to hear someone not holler your head off, but being the only one to talk was boring.

The teen ditched the coffee-brown chair sluggishly, forcing his own annoyance back down as he strode out the door. Inside the room, Dr. Cunningham settled back on his chair a little as he straightened out the papers with a stern expression. "RONI... keep an eye on the kid." The computer automatically computed the command into its database without delay. He then glimpsed to the patient's chair to discover a thoughtful parting gift from his last visitor. "So that's what I get...?"

The reward for his guidance was the flecks of fine ash powdered on the seat. "Can...you also get the janitor to double-check the place?"

* * *

><p>Even for an adult-to-be, a map would have been nice. The passageways seemed to change every time he went through them- families and visitors next to the patient rooms come and go. Landmarks such as couches were hard to run into...perhaps because this wasn't the OR section of the hospital. Luckily, he only need to walk two circles to figure out where his room was, then after changing clothes and backtracking the location the floor below the guy's office...<p>

Shoot. The door to the lounge was password protected. Punching in a number of unrelated digits and wiggling the stupid knob was practically pointless. Go figure. Although he may have been mute, a physical quarrel never disappeared from his list of maneuvers.

…

Okay, _maybe_ stomping at the thing was too imprudent of him. He only did it because that doctor lied about telling him could enter...whatever, lesson learned.

"Pst! Erhard..!" That young male voice surprised the stubborn individual into propelling himself backwards, against the wood. "You need to help us out!" When the teen saw it was Gary, he chilled down; then he grew an ill reaction at seeing several unfamiliar kids rallied behind him. The boy wasn't going to improvise another... movement, was he?

Within five seconds of standstill, Gary then proclaimed, "Oh- no, no, no.. I didn't mean that..." He sighed and mumbled something in secret as he aimed his finger to the other children, who all had sickened expressions. "Well?"

The eldest ran a hand through his hair in a humiliated way before he nodded back. He just got on a clean change of clothes and a gray jacket; they were not gonna get filthy from this operation, but his credibility was about to get thrown out the window. Oh. That _and_ his graduation from 'prankster' to 'notorious crook.' He couldn't wait.

His peers that gave him the outline of the heist concealed themselves by going further down the corridor. Their 'hired' robber turned to the innovative, bolted door with a surefooted behavior about him. He inserted his steady hands into the side pockets of his jacket, but chose not put the hood up to finish his shifty look.

Candidly, he wasn't looking forward to this.

* * *

><p>"It's only going to be a small procedure. Once they're done, you'll be as good as new." Dr. Cunningham had his palms on his knees before standing up to walk his patient, a shockingly passive senior, to the exit. "Ain't gonna cost ya too much, either."<p>

The grandmother graciously showed her thanks by patting the diagnostician's hands and complimenting, "You were a blessing to meet, doctor. If only I didn't lose my eyesight so soon, I would be able to remember your young face..! Thank you so much." With a cane, she tottered out the exam room.

"Uh... right. Take care." Gabriel said with furrowed eyebrows when he sat back down. He sulked to himself over the unusual comment, "(Do I really sound that young?)" After a loose shrug, he trodden off to his office, where he could put his legs up on the desk without getting incriminated of neglecting his job. He dropped his lab coat on the couch and plucked a cigarette from the ashtray to light up on his way, requesting from his assistant, "RONI, put some TV on..."

The machine gave an affirmative response before its monitor displayed some reporter talking in front of the White House. Before the doctor could change the channel, the female newsperson spoke in her microphone, "_Currently I'm at the White House where President Roger Baker had announced his decision to run for office for a second term. His campaign for the 2020 re-election is off to an incredibly fast start, many think it is because of his influential background, but experts say his timing was extremely late; it was a better start than for the Republican Party, who has yet to have a clear candidate to run against him. Poll results from out website show his re-election to be almost definite despite this year's mishaps with a favorable number of 74%. The Republicans __running are..."_

Discerning what she had to say but too lazy to switch channels, the man gazed out the window, as if he already forgot about his task as some nanny for Esha (or at least trying to keep it out of mind). "I'm not really big in politics..."

"_They are the most likely to represent their party. Now, there are also Tea Party candidates seeking the Oval Office, some are from the most unexpected places critics can imagine. There is Stacy Oberman, Davis Upadya, and even the new head of the HHS, former assistant secretary Jacob Tillman."_

His green hair and stethoscope nearly shot up in the air as the name of his most memorable patient was spoken. "What? That old fart is..." He put his legs down on the floor and slammed a hand on his desk at the outrageous idea. "That's the biggest suicide mission I've ever heard of- has he lost his mind? I thought I told him he had sit out for good 'cause of his bad heart..!"

Dr. Cunningham's objection had no effect on the reporter, who kept talking, _"Now, experts are riling over Tillman's choice to run since he had just received a heart transplant days ago. But he has been able to gather many supporters due to his rumored heroism during the quarantine on Portland, which has been said to have led to the removal of a possibly fatal virus. Updates tell me he could have a strong impact in this election. Now back to you, Steve."_

The picture now showed the news studio and its two anchors. The male promptly directed the attention to a guest speaker, "_We have our expert on this, Matt Curtis, here today to sort this election out... Matt, about what Tiffany just said about Tillman, what kind of impact do you think he'll make?_"

The diagnostician, never sitting through a long government-based spiel like this before, was now engrossed in it. He even gave a leery eye to RONI when she shut off the broadcasting to speak. "Hey! I was in a middle of-" Even if he was cut off, that phrase would have been hard to continue.

"_But doctor, there is a problem about to occur with the juvenile you were in charge of._" The man sat up with an 'uh-oh' gut feeling after realizing he let the kid on his own devices for too long. He was shown a video camera view of Esha walking down a hall and heard, "_He is about to have a run-in with Chief Patel down at the faculty lounge." _The video now showed Erhard inside the lounge rummaging through the refrigerator like a bull in a china shop. The teeth of Gabriel were visible as he was fixed to his position on the chair in his dumb yet panicked composure.

"Crap..." Like a bullet, he was out of the workspace after grasping his lab coat and snubbing out the cigarette using the piled ashtray, flying down the hall and veering at the corners as a madman would. He was close to bumping into some personnel on his way to the staircase. Exercise wasn't his major, but he was able to jump from the halfway point down and make a polished landing. As he headed to the lounge on the first floor, he slid his arms into the sleeves of the lab coat, barely noticing the kids peering from behind the walls of the crossing paths.

Right as he was about to enter through the doors carelessly left open, the yell of his boss echoed in his ears and gave him the red light signal. "What the-? You can't take all of that- you're not even supposed to be in here! Did Gabe tell you to..." The doctor at the doorway was about to step away but was caught in the sight of the teenager, which was a domino effect that had Esha catch onto his presence. "Gabe, what's going on here?" She was critical of him, and that wasn't good for his weekly wages.

In the kid's embrace there were bag of chips, cases of mini doughnuts of different glazes, and essentially a day's worth of...junk food heaven. The 'Master of Deduction' could understand the motive, hands-down. Either he was on the brink of starvation, or he was getting some last-minute food for a party with those kids outside. It was too close to call.

Discounting the boy's penitent but now worthless lour, Gabriel yanked on the collar of his shirt and contended the manager's scowl with his rebuttal being, "I may have told jersey boy over here to grab a bite, but he's the one who overdid it by raiding your fridge. Sorry about that." The apology wasn't the most earnest one he had ever given, but it had to at least simmer her down.

Before Esha could reprimand him for his failure to find a child even a pastime, the thief bucked, trying to move away. The chain plain hung on his neck flickered in recoil as the man refused to relinquish him. "Hey, you aren't going anywhere until we get those take care of." The checks of the teen reddened in his hindrance. He was going to have to give up the sweets. "Put 'em back." And with that, the kid was unleashed into the kitchen of the lounge.

The room was in a respectful silence as the trespasser returned the items that had been taken. On the left side of the place, where he was at, were two fridges loaded with notes that were bordered with rectangular cabinets and a center counter with hi-chairs like those at a bar. There was a toaster, conventional oven, and a microwave fixed along the back-wall and a plastic grate of plates and silverware. Atop the counter in the middle was a basket of fruits, usually provisioned by Tomoe. The opposite corners was where the couches and flatscreen TV were. A pedestal there was clogged with People magazines and health articles. The kid should have taken advantage of this half of the room when he got through the door...however he did it.

Chief Patel growled, wanting to protest against him, but retreated from the room shortly with resentful footsteps. Dr. Cunningham, on the other hand, was more triumphant. "Done yet?" He saw the misery from the punished boy. "You're lucky she didn't kick you out. I know you were trying to help those kids...sorry you couldn't go scot-free." This was his third time saying that word. Sorry.

He wasn't really 'sorry' about anything.

And those spiteful red eyes said that to him.

Gabriel, who ended up to be the antagonist of this heartbreaking drama, brooded whilst he paced to that decorative fruit basket and confiscated an apple from it. He then pitched it to the minor and breathed, "Eat this so you have something in that stomach." That unfriendliness earlier turned into a puzzled stare at the doctor. "My job to is to diagnose ailments, not literally take care of people. But that doesn't mean I don't care about them...it's just...uh...so eat up before you keel over." Mutes aren't difficult to communicate to, this one just had the personality hard to cope with.

The teenager glanced down at the ripe gala apple and chomped off a chunk. It was too sweet for his liking; he was stuck with a mix of distaste and broken calm on his face, allowing the man to quickly become apprehensive. "Huh? It shouldn't be rotten... (Tomoe wouldn't mess up something like that...)" A shake of the head was understood and he turned away. "Look, I'm not...cut out for these sorta things. How about we find someone else to get you lunch and we'll call it a day."

The agreement was the sound of the apple being bitten and eaten. "You sure make a lotta noise when you chew..."

* * *

><p>"Why do they keep saying those things..?" CR-SO1 murmured uneasily as he stepped out into the vivid orange flooring from the OR with a file in one hand. He kept hearing others praise him using words such as 'amazing,' 'prodigy,' and even 'revolutionary.' The radical evaluations weren't relevant to his own skills, and felt like a wasted effort to say. "(There's no point in thinking about it.)"<p>

He was about ten meters from his office when he was approached by that diagnostician and the...imposter. "Yo kid. Did you eat lunch yet?" The man spoke as if he was in a hurry. The adolescent beside him noted the same detail and munched closer to the core of the apple he had and quieter than how he was before.

"I have one more procedure until so. What is it?" The surgeon averted any eye contact with the orphan, and the orphan did the same by facing another direction as he finished off the fruit.

Clearing his throat in the meanwhile, the other gestured to this kid and said, "Could you take him with ya? I got my hands full, and he's about to eat a horse, just so you know." The first statement the boy picked up had him stop eating. The third was also depreciated, but it really was the first that concerned him. He managed to exchange a glance with the specialist, who felt to be ridiculed from the petition.

A sharp breath was taken in before he answered, "I can't take him inside the OR."

"(Was that a 'yes' or a 'no?')" Gabriel thought to himself. Up to now, the fiesty brat seemed agonistic about hanging with this guy, but once he heard surgery was attached to the package deal, you can't deny that he was...thrown off. "This imp knows he's on the last straw. You shouldn't have a problem having him inside there. He ain't gonna lift a finger." As if this was pre-arranged, the rascal had his hands in the pouches of his sweater and the stem of the apple core clasped by his teeth.

There was a growl emitted from the prisoner with closed eyelids. "Fine, but-"

"Just tell the cafeteria staff to put it on my tab." The taller one grinned at his successful pursuasion as he swiped the remains of the fruit from the boy. "Get this thrown away..." After the kid 'snapped' by seizing it back, he scooted off to find a wastebin. As he was gone, the 'Master of Deduction' informed the new 'caretaker,' "There's something you should know..." He mouthed the rest, mistrustful of the one he casted off for a second. When the message was received, he was about to depart via opposite hall, but twirled around to see Erhard already done. The tyke wasn't going to let anything slip by, and for that reason, Dr. Cunningham moaned.

CR-SO1 was met with a charismatic mood that spoiled when seeing his astonishment. He bumbled at his impersonator, "You're..." The teen blinked thrice and slanted his head, waiting for the predicate of the sentence to get spoken. Seconds later, he shot a look to the other adult, expressing 'what's going on' through his eyes. He had zero reponse, too.

The lukewarm air became frigid. As the surgeon repeated, "You're a..."

* * *

><p><strong>And a... CLIFF! (Not really, if you were paying any attention.)<strong>

OC: Do I really need to be here?

Uh... Yes. (Even if I don't have time to make us a conversation, I must at least acknowledge your presence.)

OC: ...

Anyways, if someone leaves a good review, I'll work harder to get the next chappy in! Oh. I think the next one is about to get...um...


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: (Geez...HS must be killing me to be this late...)

Well... I thought about having fluff here, but I guess not. I'm just gonna warn that outside names mentioned should be kept track of..._especially_ if I give a description. Of course, OCs aren't the funnest to accept, to I keeping it as simple as possible. Hopefully you get to laugh somewhere in here.

Oh...I've decided to put up music recommendations to put with the chappies...Lemme see (by the way, I don't own any of these.)...

In somewhat of an order: Resurgam Theme, Naomi's Theme, Conference A, Exasperation/Calm Down, Red Zone, (insert casual theme here), On The Town, RONI or Gabe's Theme. (This will not hint anything, it's just the music.)

Warnings: I don't know. Just be ready to accept anything... ^-^;**  
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><p><strong>04-The_Enigma_<strong>

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><p>"Hey, anyone in here?" Maria, who was just released on her late afternoon break after the poorly-timed car crash, glanced through a dusty window before letting herself inside a worn-down mechanic shop. "I'm sorry if you're not open, but I need a really quick fix!" This was kinda uncomfortable to profess in public, but her only ride was at risk. 'Quick' wasn't the only thing she needed; 'cheap' was really the reason she depended on this old family-owned business.<p>

As the woman towed her cherished motorcycle into the wrecked store, she heard two guys in the backroom chatting intensively. The hardy door must have blocked her shout from penetrating through, but allowed the interior noise to be heard from outside. Using the shadows in the room that the closed entrance blinds provided her, she curiously listened to the males natter as she inspected the place.

The scent of oil from the garage nearby contaminated the air slightly; what was more revolting was to see all the smears of tire marks on the cracked tiled floor with oil droplets between them. The red counter and register were unmonitored, so she may have come at the wrong hour.

"Incredible job. So how did you mess that one up?" The glass that gave away the conversing men had old-fashioned graffiti as did the one in the front of the shop, so the face wasn't seen by the paramedic, who was growing a bit fidgety from standing alone. She could make out that this guy, who was applauding, had brown hair with uneven bangs and a red cap plus a tarnished T-shirt on. Looked like a full-fledged American, if you implied he was dressed as a baseball fan. "As if she couldn't hate you more already. You should quit, you know, before you _really_ blow it." His sarcastic and lax tone easily reminded her of a particular co-worker of hers.

The other was a thin, lankier African-American man with a snazzy leather jacket sticking out from his causal attire, which by the way wasn't tainted like the other dude's clothing. One of his dark hands was scratching his pitch-black hair that was styled in dreadlocks. "Just give me a way to talk past her...then the grumpy bookworm so I can get to his brother and have this taken care of..." He inclined miserably as he said, "I'm too young for arthritis, or whatever they call it."

"'Grumpy bookworm'? That's why he's your sworn enemy..." Dr. Torres concluded that this laid-back man must be the owner of retro shop, for he was playing with some hand tool. "Don't think he's gonna help you, even if you beg at him for hours." His chuckle was the one of a slacker, alright. She found herself browsing the items as she grew tired of their discussion.

"Uh-huh. Any bright ideas?"

"Go see some other doc about that knee..."

"Wha-?" This guy, probably a visitor, drooped like a withering plant with the recommendation. "I'm running on pennies, man. You know I won't be seeing no tomorrow if I go ask her for cash..." He threw his arms up in his despair. "I rather lynch myself than deal with her-she's just about the scariest woman I'll ever meet!" He used his hands to simulate the next phrase, "To be honest, if I ran into her in town I'd be heading for the hills...damn, does she knows how to beat the stuffing out of anyone..." His voice had a habit of exaggerating the words. "Maybe I said too much, but you got the idea..."

"You'd make a great politician."

"Shut up."

"Just saying." The mechanic went into a giggle then a terribly controlled burst of laughter. "But not bad for a short soap opera, man. You better hope that sociopath didn't hear that, or you'll have hell to pay." He flashed a wrench naughtily and then sighed, "Anyways, I'll take care of that bike of yours by tomorrow." His beryl-green eyes unintentionally spotted Maria past the glass, who was off guard during the her 'expedition' through the gear and accessories in the shop. "Crap, I got a customer..." Turning his cap to the side, he opened the door and notified as he switched the ceiling lights and fan on simultaneously, politely saying, "Ma'am? I'm closed..."

"Oh- but...uh..." The woman popped up, her jacket gradually slipping off her shoulders, and explained, "My engine's kinda screwed up. Can you take a look? I'm in a hurry." She went back to her motorbike with an inquisitive glance to the repairman, knowing she can't get 'no' for an answer.

Before the man had a chance to reply, his company mumbled something to him as his defining yellow eyes stared at the EMT's uniform. When she was about to question the problem, the African-American's attention was caught by the vehicle at the doorway. "Woah...lady, you got one heck of a sweet ride there. I wouldn't give that to Ethan if I were you... those one-of-a-kind models ain't his specialty." His grin highly contrasted the bothered look of the other.

"Uh...thanks. But I need it fixed...right now." The female rider took the mandarin-colored goggles from her forehead down to her neck. She got herself refocused on the real tinkerer, who grumbled 'shut up' to his friend at the same time."So?"

"Ignore my buddy's advice...he's just jealous. Anything on wheels I can fix, just not as good as my dad. He's actually the owner of the place. I'm just here closing up shop." Ethan professionally rectified as he shouldered his other client. "If it's just the engine, I can definitely get that done. Though I might have to charge you a bit extra for making me work overtime, sound fine with you?" His answer was a rapid 'yeah.' "Then if you'll 'scuse me..." The mechanic steered the treasured bike to the garage close by. "Later Jet. And get over the bike." He cut the electric on the lights with a flip of a switch, literally leaving the others in the dark.

"I was only complimenting her! Who said I was..." The man, perturbed from being accused of enviousness, gestured to the lady in the room, but then gave in. He saw a miffed expression from her and added, "I meant that it was rare and you're lucky to...nevermind. Listen, Ethan's a genius at this stuff, I was just pulling his leg." For a sensitive guy, he seemed like to know the etiquette of accepting failure.

"Huh." Dr. Torres pursed her lips as she thought of something to say. "Hey...um..." And whether to say it or not. "I heard about that knee." The other blanked out at that. She spoke, "I know a doc at Resurgam First Care who can check it out if you want." Here she was, using up her priceless time to furbish up the beloved motorcycle- and at the same moment _promoting _her workplace. "Checkup's not free, but it's worth a visit." Trying to harbor a positive outlook on the place for the stingy man, a funny smile came from her.

The last part undoubtedly brought a confusion of hope yet consternation on the one named Jet. "Uh...yeah, I'll think about it." It occurred to the woman that he might have something against what she mentioned, so she kept quiet as he floundered out of the store, wording 'okay then' to herself.

"Hey, you still back there? I think I found your problem." The centered call of the clerk and a winding sound of a metal part coming loose broke the paramedic's concentration on the last costumer. She hollered back 'coming' and wandered into the garage.

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><p>On a light stroll to her office at C.I.F.M. after leaving her daughter with a close neighbor, Dr. Kimishima had an strange notion that something...was not in balance. The employees of the other departments were all over the lobby, debating so vigorously that it looked like gossip between friends. People who came in, just like her, were instantly assimilated into it by their co-workers.<p>

And the one to have the honors was Little Guy. "Dr. Kimishima!" His blue tie was adjusted terribly today, no longer matching the quality of the navy suit he wore. The blonde man caught up to the medical examiner, bringing her up to speed, "There was a enormous accident in a police chase this morning- but there's no data being given away...so...we here we are." As Naomi glanced past the agent, she heard him report grimly, "This commotion had been going on for hours." It wasn't clear whether he was concerned about the noise or the unsolved mystery.

"Was anyone injured in the event? Any victims?" The lady interrogated, later realizing she was about to join trend like the others, who were hotly disputing for answers with no sign of declining. "Nevermind what I said. Can you tell me why this is so important?" She felt that she was in some newspaper headquarters, with paper flying and constant phone ringing- except none of that part of the mania. Only the collage of people and talking was in this building, loud as it was.

Special Agent Navel was, as expected from his boss, unable to answer off the bat. "All I can say is...the locals were in pursuit of something out of their league. The mess is a train-wreck." Though what he said sounded easy to grasp, the concept was, by all odds, tough to put a finger on. "I've never seen such a chase go this wrong." The man said as he handed the doctor a black and white photo of this 'mess.' "The cameras picked up nothing but this."

Just as the forensic expert was about to deny the existence of such ruination the picture had captured, she picked up a deeper voice from behind her. "Are you two are entering this discussion as well?" The head of the woman silently turned to glimpse at the Chief Wayne with one eye; her circular earrings tingled at the petite movement. "I thought I'd see you down here, Naomi."

"What do you know about this?" Not missing a beat, she went directly for the facts.

The giant repositioned his glasses and had an indifferent tone as he spoke, "This is a case best kept for the Federals." Watching the pair in front of him realize the fragility of the subject, he passively changed it by saying, "I'd like to congratulate you on the last case. You solved much faster than many of us thought." His troubled countenance didn't melt away as it should've.

The lady took her eyes off of the man to return the photo, not fascinated enough to keep it as a souvenir. "I'm ready to take on another case. Where do you-" She didn't have the chance to designate a conference location as she turned to see David shaking his head deliberately. "I'm not talking about the one behind the commotion." That drive for cracking serial homicides long left her.

"You need a break, Naomi. Corpses aren't...created by demand." The truth he spoke didn't affect the medical examiner negatively; her agent's reaction was staring down at the image he held, stirred by the reference to the woman's title. "When something comes up, I'll tell you." The Chief excused himself before gaining too much attention, and ridding the chances of revealing more than he already has.

The ponytail of the relieved medical examiner flown to the side a tad as she made her way past the agent. "I'm going to my office to sort out a few things." Her umber boots were silently stepping onto the glossy tiles, gradually going farther from the man.

"Dr. Kimishima, but this case-" Navel's words couldn't slow her.

"You may want to fix that tie before going anywhere, Little Guy." Her reminder determined the definite winner of the argument he was putting up. As she moved on, the crowd shifted behind her in their quarrel, and she was gone from his view.

The secret agent remained as he was, but took another glance down at the acquired photo of the 'crime scene.' "(The Federals...)" He twirled around to keep away from joining the topic, almost forgetting his boss' friendly comment about his tie. "(I can't believe she...)" He jerked on it and checked that the pathetic fold wasn't exposed to the others. Holding up a infallible esteem, he proceeded onward, hoping that the mistake would never come about again.

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><p>"Doctor...I'm glad you came." Emma Wilson, one of the many female nurses in the hospital with a pink uniform, heartened with a few papers clumsily held in her arms. Her matching brown hair and eyes with glasses seemed to glimmer under the brilliant lights of the OR. She backed to her side, allowing the specialist inside. "Today it's-" She was about to sum up the procedure until she saw a teenager with close traits as the surgeon inside as well. "Uh...Doctor, why is he here?" She never imagined a controversy over the regulations, most of it was logic. "He can't come-"<p>

"It's only for this operation. It won't make any difference if we're the ones at the table." CR-SO1 answered roundly. He saw the kid in the corner of the room as implied, looking away stubbornly with a tiny sense of ill will. "The procedure should take less than half of hour." The reply was the shoving of hands into the pockets of a sweater.

The walls of the OR were colored green to reduce stress on the staff. But of course, the outsider wasn't at all influenced by the decor and clean machinery. The man now in charge of this person received a pair of gloves from the nurse as he turned to the anesthetized patient and said, "Nevermind him. Continue." As Emma went on with the explanation of the steps, he glimpsed over at the foreigner of the room, who was not at all disgusted by the surgery. In fact, what angered him was something— no, _someone_ else.

_ That diagnostician._

_The prisoner remembered the tint on the orphan's face growing redder when he finished that sentence. The confronted kid stampeded away with no answer, brushing off of the other doctor's side in the fury. Dr. Cunningham indicated what grounds he deducted from by saying, "Nice work. Turns out that the kid is female after all." Erhard stopped before storming off too far, realizing the significance of what he had just said: They were played._

"_That was..." The surgeon's own reaction didn't meet the same level of anger as the individual seething with rage down the hall. "A test?" What he said only made her...rile up even more. Fists were starting to show up as the girl faced them as if she was about to strike._

"_Hate to say that I threw you under the bus with that one. I saw her blush before- that was just a wild guess." The essence of success left Gabriel as his expression grew grim, "Don't get excited, kid. It's probably best to tell-" He paused when he heard loud footfalls streaming from behind him and then put to an abrupt end. The general, solemn look of the fellow doctor didn't prove anything- so spinning around was his natural option. "What the-?"_

_ The word 'flight' may have been too vague to describe it. 'Battery' seemed appropriate, but it, too, lacked the right emphasis. What just occurred was vengeance..._

_ More specifically, a hit-and-miss of a flying kick._

_ The diagnostician, who intended to keep the mute's gender a secret, nearly kissed the floor in his efforts to duck from the 'missile' launched in the air. His knees didn't recuperate as expected from the workout, so he groaned as he stood up, "Pretty little lady here has..." His word choice was interfered with as he mumbled, "One __ugly__ temper." The teen, who barely landed on both feet, involuntarily heard the 'informant' defend, "I was trying to help, y'know!"_

_ 'Deserved it' could be read on the attacker's face when she crossed her arms, still piping in revenge. The threat spread to the second doctor, who had thrown himself to the yellow wall at the face of danger. He went back to his normal position, but couldn't completely go back to how he was before composure-wise. That ambush wasn't needed to remind him of time Maria lashed out about the Cumberland Incident. He wasn't saying that he was grateful- that hit could've been his to take._

_ The green hair of the real target was distorted and his legs aching. Because it was a misunderstanding, he said, "I'll let that one slide, but try to __at least __consider that you're in a hospital. And...have fun with the kid." He left as he always would, his right hand waving back and feet taking smooth strides as he went away._

The same memory brought a rewarding smile to the sedentary adolescent, who peered beyond the thick glass outside of the OR purposelessly. Seconds after this sweet aftertaste, a warning siren wailed in the room beckoned her to acknowledge the ongoing operation. Apart from the veterans of the room, her hearing perception was the strongest, bringing substantial strain. She noticed the number 20 flashing on the corner of a screen with jagged lines racing across it.

"Doctor, there were only supposed to be a few lung tumors! How did the scans not pick up these?" Nurse Wilson gasped with her fingertips beginning to shudder while balancing a tray. The witness to the procedure was struck by her panic, but as conveyed earlier by the specialist, she had no control over anything- a vacillating faith was all that lingered on her as she took note of the his actions.

CR-SO1 took up the ultrasound and growled, "There's no time for that..!" He memorized the spots of two tumors and switched to the scalpel instantly. "There's no change in procedure, we can still operate." After multiple incisions, he removed the blood pools to clear the way for extraction. He obtained the forceps and commanded while Emma shakily held up a tray, "Vitals are low, bring some stabilizer-" Through he hadn't yet verified the number, the monotonous cries of the monitor were not without meaning.

The search order was left with the other nurse in the room, whose pink clothes became a blur as she chaotically hunted through the cabinets and shelves after noting the syringes she had at the ready were already used up. The hinges of the doors were put to work as hands would slam the storage open and shut repeatedly. "We're out!"

"That's not possible!" The assistant objected as she jumped from her post into the scuffle for the syringes, consequently placing the lead surgeon in a disadvantage against the clock- or in this case, the cascading vitals. He, however, wasn't one to let a simple insufficiency overtake him in the uphill clash with death.

Emma foraged a single syringe of lime-colored fluid that lifted the number from 16 to a measly 22. She instructed the intern, "That's the last one in this room- go next-door and get some more! Hurry!" Despite the low stock, she returned with patches of synthetic membrane, better than empty-handed. Right as she stepped back to her position, her fear heightened at the single digit 9 on the vitals. "Doctor..!"

The shout was worthless. At this rate, backup would have to be called in. "I...can't..." His gloved hands, which were spotted with crimson, knew what would be happen to them if they were to put down the bleeding scalpel: Cuffs.

Even so, the vitals pulsated, giving the countdown for the three in the OR, most frozen in place. Standing with a stony and pained composure that couldn't hide her anxiety much longer, Erhard watched the performance drop into shambles, her canines evident from gritting her teeth under the intensity. It was no doubt this failure would somehow be seen as her doing. Yes, the blame for the disappearance of those needles would be put on her, just like how she was accused of...

Hold on. Needles?

The extinguished flames in the eyes of the observer were set ablaze again as her left hand patted the lower pocket of her pants. That spirited woman that guided her through the car accident...she had given her a couple of those syringes. And as her left hand had ascertained, she didn't forget them when she had a change of clothes. The velcro flap on the lower pocket of her slacks was ripped open in a hurry, but then her hand was weighted with doubt.

Wasn't this the _worst_ time to interfere? She was 'on the last straw;' if what she had wasn't what he needed, then...

...

'Then so be it.'

Since he hadn't made any incisions, the vitals only fell two increments. "(There's still five tumors left to be extracted...)" Anything he could do would be ineffective; he had no options to choose from other than let time fly. "Dammit..." Rarely would he let himself be distracted, but as the situation could not be helped, he turned his eyes away and panned the room for two things: The nurse who was petrified with her mouth covered in fright of the plummeting vitals, and the-

The girl holding up four thick syringes on his left. Her eyes had a glare from the lights, but even so, it only amplified her enduring gaze to seem like...trust.

"W-where did he get those from?" Emma stuttered out as she saw the surgeon swiped the stabilizer from the child's hands and put into hers. The needles weren't the kind that were supplied in ORs- as they were larger than usual. "These..." They were of the correct substance, though. "I'll administer them right away!" The vitals skyrocketed farther than she thought possible: from 4 it climbed to 62. "It's a miracle..."

The donor of the stabilizer strayed back to her original spot in the corner, trying to find some pride while the specialist separated the last tumors from the infected lungs, often noting details like 'extraction complete, moving on to the next one' and the one quote she had longed to hear, "Taping up opening incision and... we're finished. Let this disease pass from this world..." 'Finished' was really all she wanted to hear from the mouthful.

Vital count at completion: 51.

The assisting nurse clapped as the man pulled off his gloves, who looked away as he heard her say, "That was...an extraordinary operation, doctor-"

"I found some stabilizer!" The second nurse charged into the room with a bin of promised needles after the groundbreaking shout. "Oops..." It didn't take long to realize the grand entrance was in vain. Nurse Wilson tittered before breaking away from the effort of giving unheeded praise to discuss post-operation procedures with the other. The prisoner, having them handle the sanitation and transportation, walked to his imitator who he had yet to personally take on.

"I...uh..." Coming across the right words was difficult to do. "Thank you for what you did during the procedure." The mute responded by glancing back with a carefree smile and shrug that he interpreted as 'no problem.' The frivolity then transitioned into queasiness as he said, "And lunch...it's late." For some peculiar reason he felt like he had wound up talking to this kid like some ten-year old. "Sorry." It was probably just because she wasn't able to talk. Just that disability: her silence.

Or so he judged of his copycat.

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><p>Although it was very uncommon for a prisoner to have responsibility over someone else, he didn't know how to utilize it and, actually, had already lost that authority. "H-hey...do you even know where you're..." There wasn't any way to convince this <em><span>animal<span>_ that he was supposed to be leading- she just fastened onto his wrist and began a prowl around the building, going with any sign that read 'cafeteria' and had a white fork or spoon symbol.

"Nrgh..." Publicly resisting didn't look...good. As a doctor, aggressive physical contact was against the oath; which meant jerking away from her would be frowned upon in this establishment. "I..._do_ know the way there..! Are you even listening?" Bossy and roundabout her ways may have been, they sooner or later brought them to their destination. He was fortunate that she hadn't encountered any of the staff on the journey, for that would've been...an undignified impression.

After a round of indecisiveness between the sandwich, pizza, breakfast, and other food sections of the cafe, his absolute conclusion about the starving teen had come to this:

She had **nothing** akin to him except the physical attributes. For example, he chose an average turkey sandwich and bottled water in 4 minutes while she, skinny as she was, voted for a double cheeseburger overloaded with meat perfect for carnivores, a can of Pepsi, and, to top it off, a massive cookie with chunks of chocolate...after a half an hour in nosing around (notably two-thirds of the time at the showcase of gourmet fast-food for those of a less nutritional diet). Also, he learned that 'tabs' didn't exist from the cashier. He was tricked into paying almost twenty dollars, what he would earn in a single operation.

Rambunctious. Impulsive. Even spontaneous. At first he assumed the wild character was from the huge accomplishment in the OR, but there was a _very likely_ probability that the assumption was invalid.

…

That's it. He could admit she had _some_ self-control...but clearly not enough to ensure that he would not be humiliated in the open place. "You should take your time. We're not in a hurry." Yet he didn't know why he still tried to explain.

After their mini-adventure romping about the cafeteria, they found themselves at one of those plain, square, blue-counter tables...sitting across from each other in plastic white chairs and consuming their meals at completely different speeds. CR-SO1 was unable to indulge on what he had because **_someone_** with _incredible_ hunger pangs and _abnormal_ cravings was chomping away at her unhealthy lunch in inconsistent portions. She was chugging the soda between each mouthful; it was no longer easy to perceive she was mute.

Taken of his appetite, the surgeon fell back on the seat and let the seconds tick away as tag-along carried on. 'Erhard' soon recognized his resignation from the food and came to a screeching halt with her...rampage. Blinking at the half-slice of the market-fresh sandwich and a full cyan water bottle, she exchanged a befuddled look with the divided one of the man. Ambivalent of what the issue was, she undid the wrappings of her dessert after the main course, but then wavered instead of diving in.

Heck, she nearly blacked out in that OR with a pounding heart and stomach devoid of calories. It wasn't special for someone to have a binge after that _and_ after participating in, as you can see from the TV hanging from the column over there, today's breaking story. But the guy in front of her seemed to be in need of the sugar more than herself with that depressed face. Wait, was that from when she knocked him over during that...

Oh.

_ Was he still upset to hear he got knocked over by a girl? _Ha, sucker...

Er- Though something should be done, just **staring** at this daydreamer gave her a headache.

So, to get even, she split the sweet and held the bigger share to him. That should smooth things out, right? She had to wiggle the thing several times to get his reaction...

The doctor, who did catch the transformation of emotions on the orphan's face beforehand, was, in reality, drifting off in his thoughts meanwhile and therefore wasn't prepared for the offer when displayed to him. "Uh...I'm alright...No thanks." The kid had an 'are you sure' expression before taking back the half of delectable goodness and finishing it off- in a more civilized manner.

As she did...He was conflicted.

Exactly _how _does an orphan of such...eccentric character wind up with _his _identity?

To be more accurate...a (almost harmless) mute girl of seventeen? He got the picture about how the gender could have been misguided, but who could slip up the age? Her petite figure had no way of accounting for that; unless the information was only partial. Concisely, there were too many chances of error...

And...something was pulling at his sleeve.

Snapping out _should've _been a breeze when what you were looking at moved. "What?" His meaning sounded more like 'what's going on' opposed to 'what are you doing.' The surgeon translated a kid that was pointing to the opposite exit of the cafeteria was a kid that wanted to go to... "That's..."

ATLUS Mall. He heard all about the extension in detail by the end of yesterday. Purportedly, a wing containing a hub of department and retail stores was adjacent to here. From where they were, that shopping center felt like some paradise out of reach with the magnificent array of colors. "I don't think...we can go there." The girl may not have seen it, but the tracker bracelet was already signaling quite frequently as they chose a location not too far from the border of the hospital. If he could correct that sentence, he would have said 'I' instead of 'we.' But he refused to explain why.

The orphan pressed back her letdown by looking at the lively mall again; that place wasn't somewhere she could go to while staying at the asylum. She had friends there, but play was hard to do- her face didn't do a better job at being optimistic. The man, who didn't want to be caught up in the identity theft any longer, quietly rolled his cuff of his sleeve over the device and said, "I'm heading back. You should return to your room, too." It was worthless to tell her that he was a convict of a heinous bio-attack- and that she had just helped take off two years from his prison sentence. Besides, she was sort of...haughty about her role in the operation's success.

He held onto the bottle but disposed of the sandwich; he'd just have to eat more at dinner to make up for that. "Come on." The specialist glanced in the direction of where the other pair of scarlet eyes faced and said, "You...should ask someone else to take you there." A tinge of regret came at him for that second when the teen spun around to head back to the hospital halls. She walked ahead of him and through the food section where she once had the time of her life at, then was gone in Resurgam's corridors without as much as a 'goodbye.'

CR-SO1 ultimately realized the flaw in his suggestion just when he was about to set off.

* * *

><p>"That room is on the other side of the building..." He wasn't sure if this was pure luck or his crappy destiny that put him in the spotlight for taking care of both the troublemakers from that protest in the lobby. Maybe both. "Gary Forester...huh."<p>

It was just Esha giving him a hard time. He could drop by her office on his long way there and begin venting about work hours- of course he knew what would happen if he decided to. But the thought didn't really matter, since she was occupied with another guest, "I don't remember saying that we were accepting applicants lately. A diagnostician was re-hired plus a specialist began working here not long ago, so I don't think there's space for another doctor...Sorry." And the thoughtful Chief was mentioning him. How sweet.

Gabriel stopped in the middle of the path to hear the job-discussion coming from the manager's office. He obviously couldn't poke his head in there, but he was feeling blase enough to spend time eavesdropping. Might as well take a break from his travels- it's not that the boy was informed that he was coming for a check-up anyways. Now he wished he had a cigarette in his mouth.

"I see." Some woman with a calm, crafty tone sighed from inside the room. Most likely to be the high-expectant, unemployed physician. "I'm sorry about wasting your time then...Esha Patel, is it?" A patting sound came next; he expected that to be the lady getting up and dusting herself off or something. So far she seemed kinda fancy with all the manners. "If you do ever need a surgeon, I'm open to that as well."

"Oh. You can operate? I pretty sure some of the other hospitals around town would be looking for a surgeon..." Dr. Cunningham imagined the rustling of papers to be from the boss. "Well, I would be glad to tell them about you." The sound of sorting files diminished as she asked, "Excuse me, but you aren't desperate for a job, are you? The economy's not doing so well for most doctors these days, so..."

"Not at all, I was...um...just thinking about...helping others again."

"Is that so? Because I was thinking that I could..." The words 'lay off' shot through the man's head but was shrugged off after a second's reasoning. Esha wouldn't be that cruel. "My sister could use a pediatrician for her orphanage downtown..." She wasn't talking about that loud, self-generated older sibling, now was she? "I'm going to need to consult to-"

"It's alright. I...don't do well with children." Another sigh from that woman. The diagnostician mouthed 'welcome to the boat' as he prepared to carry on with his 'voluntary appointment'. He refrained from scatting off when he noted this statement from the visitor, "To be honest, I don't why I left Caduceus so soon back then. Now I'm a little old for second chances..."

"Woah, woah... Caduceus USA?" She mimicked his reactions exactly. "Can I... Can I look at your resume?" Several more documents went flying in that room after the Chief's stammer was responded with 'sure'. "Holy cow- How can you not be employed? I don't know what hospital wouldn't hire a grad from..." She cut off her rambling and uttered, "Ex-except us. S-sorry about that...Ms. Williams."

"I prefer to be called 'Sharon,' Ms. Patel. The surname doesn't...um..." A apprehensive voice was detected by the doctor's hesitation. "It doesn't bring back many good memories."

"Then you call me Esha. That'll make us even." The director asserted as the chorus of papers and someone getting up repeated. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Sharon. I'll be sure to report to the other hospitals about you." Gabriel could vision the two women shaking hands. "Also...you haven't operated in a while, right? Are you sure you want to enter an OR again?"

"It's been about a decade, already... and I've been working in a pharmacy since. I'm quite tired of it, so yes."

"Haha- you won't be any longer, I'll guarantee you that. I can't believe you were hiding that resume for ten years just to work in a drugstore..." A prideful laugh from the Chief has forever been hard to share- that was true for the 'Master of Deduction.' "Why did you-"

"I'd better move on...Thank you for the meeting, Esha." Sharon made tapping noises as she neared the doorway, where Dr. Cunningham went farther from.

"Oh...h-hey!" The manager wasn't ready for the abrupt leave. "Your-"

"You can give it to them when you talk!" A blonde lady of medium height said before entering the gold halls and exploiting the tall man's presence. "Oh. I didn't expect to meet the staff here so soon. I'm not even..." Gabriel kept pacing along despite the comment regarding him; his excuse: just not in the mood to socialize. "That's a warm welcome..." Murmured the outsider when she went down the other way.

* * *

><p><strong>Not much of a cliff, unfortunately... <strong>(I'd still would love it if you'd leave a review! Especially about the music things above...)**  
><strong>

I kinda got lazy at the end, sorry. Anyways...next chapter is kind short (I think) and may recap what we know of Trauma Team...I'm going to have to tweak out that stuff on my own.

Alicia: Good lord. You're late. Now what?

Hey, did you ever consider what the new OCs are based from?

Alicia:...I can't reveal things yet.

Oh yeah. Oops. I'll just say that um...one is very much like you.

Alicia: I definitely got that part. But I think it's safe for the readers to know you're actually going to have dynamic characters, right?

Yep. Can't screw around that. I'm jamming everything in here, fastforwards, death, hectic stuff, really.

Alicia: I'm going to enjoy criticizing this...

...*falls over* This isn't for you! Let the readers-

Alicia: Obviously, you can't prove that with no reviews...

Okay, someone shove it in her face that you're reading this. Please. I think I might lose it... *dumps self into bed* Oh crap, I gotta study...*gets back up and groans*

Alicia: I doubt we'll have any updates soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

I'm not gonna even start with my HS life... it's that bad.

Music Recommendations: Resurgam Theme, On the Town, The Suspect, (blank... I dunno), Rose's Theme, Conference A, Resurgam Theme/Diagnostic Theme? (sry, no GC action in this chappy), (blank), Prison Theme, (blank)

Oh man. This list is just shouting that I have problems...

* * *

><p><strong>05_The Stories_<strong>

* * *

><p>Less reckless measures were used this time.<p>

"Hey kid, you up?" Gambling that her apprentice would be awake, Dr. Torres chose to utilize the benefit of knocking rather than blowing away the stalwart door. Her previous methods almost got her reprimanded for public disturbance and..well, she just didn't want that to happen again. "Good news, I think I can take us out to breakfast..." But the holdup wasn't something she permitted as a paramedic.

The five knocks and food opportunity was appealing enough to the inhabitant of the room, granted that yesterday evening she was brought the poorest meal imaginable: Who could eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a pint of milk for dinner? Let alone, _live_ through a night with only that in your stomach? Erhard was at Maria's side in no longer than a minute, throwing on a matching EMT jacket and shutting the door staidly— those red eyes showing signs of sagging after a slight case of insomnia.

"Did I miss something yesterday..?" The woman didn't expect a single emergency to make the kid become a void, depleted of everything except fatigue. All hunches about that cause were called off as she saw a nod after whipping up a conjecture, "It was Gabe; um... the doctor with the jumbled green hair...wasn't it? He...didn't give you anything good to eat?" Why did she even go through the hassle of asking? _Of course_ that guy would know absolutely nothing about getting food for kids; there was a reason why he titled himself the worst parent out there. "I shouldn't have asked that jerk..."

The orphan wasn't unfavorable of what she said; though that man may have addiction and devotion-to-obligation issues, that didn't mean his endeavor was to be undervalued. The teen wasn't entailing that _she_ liked what he did— _she_ would certainly prize the idea of having a meal with this boisterous...individual.

And _her_ keeper vowed to make that come true. "Okay, you know what? I'm getting us a big breakfast...mall's close by, so let's go there." As an alternative to sailing through the building like some unplanned contest, she broke out at an even speed-walk. "It's only for the food, we gotta be back at the ward soon...or else Chief isn't going to be too happy."

The volunteer, who had dashing hopes of sightseeing the hotspot, sank back to _her _old, grouchy mood when the deadline was announced. True, _she_ was already lucky enough to be ensured a glint of the place...

"Hey, don't fall behind!'

Snapping out of the sulking, she surged up to the precipitous caller.

'This trip better be worth it.'

* * *

><p>"Look at yourself. Don't tell me this is your first time here?" Maria, who felt detached from the child's sprightliness, chirped as the male figure she had upheld about the newcomer attenuated. "This is Atlus Mall. Pretty cool, isn't it?" And a sight to behold, that was, if you were a kid kept in an asylum for years. The rainbow of ocher and sienna of the walls and floors was uplifting to see, not to mention the palette of other colors among the stores and ornamentation on the sides. The skylights were also pretty darn intricate if you consider the crooked shape of the place. Those architects should be bestowed a medal of awesomeness or something; the follower beyond question found their work to be of splendor.<p>

And it was a shame that they could only dine there. "It'd be kinda nice if I could show you around." After she set a white bag of Chinese take-out down, the woman flexed out her arms and had a silent yawn before seating across from Erhard. "I always go out here with friends." Tomoe Tachibana was the first of those companions that whizzed by her head. Obliging the malnourished one in front of her, she asserted, "Go ahead. I'll help myself later."

The commencing sign saved a famished kid from the delay and _she_, timidly this time, dug into the meal. Dr. Torres didn't make much of the feasting tyke, if anything, she was bemused. This person had the biggest guts she'll ever see from a minor: Sure, children have forever been ignorant of the struggle between life and death, but this guy was...primitive for a seventeen year-old. Some things were just nonexistent to _him—_ fear, grief...the things that sometimes drove humans to become horrified of their own shadows. Wiped off the face of the earth.

_She _could be curbing those and was born to have that upbeat grin. It was funny, but she kinda respected that beaming face. In the end, it was the spirit that counted, right? "Oh. I didn't tell you my name, now did I?" Maybe that was because she never saw it being effective. "I'm Maria Torres." The need for reiterating to the preoccupied mute was cast aside as her beryl-green eyes swanned off to the seasonal banners that adorned the bare columns of the food court.

Her 'guest' regularly faltered over gobbling down more of the breakfast when the host, out of the blue, modified her introduction into a narrative, "I started out like you..." She drooped down with crossed arms on the yellow surface of the table, the right side of her head resting. "In an orphanage, I mean." This background was only known by best friends; believing this mute could keep a secret better than anyone else, she kept going with a weak laugh, "I hated it...being an outcast to the other lucky kids in the neighborhood who had families...life felt like torture. Everything...sucked."

The single-membered audience never laid down the plastic utensils during the tale. Through the outreach was inspirational, _her_ reception to it wasn't empathetic. It was more like a fleeting 'oh, I didn't know' expression. The speaker's view was elsewhere, so she couldn't make anything from the other. "I got carried away with cigarettes and one day, I...basically started a fire on accident." Even in the middle of a public building, the quiet doldrums were present during the one-sided talk. "Nevermind, it's sorta a long story how I got here. I'll leave it for later."

When the woman raised her head, the teenager had a napkin over _her _mouth, displaying that _she_ was...fully replenished. The next phrase_ she_ heard made _her_ stiffen up slightly, "I know you didn't do it; that fire a couple days back. At least, not on purpose." The paramedic took out the other carry-out box from the bag and a fork as she said, "By the way, I remember hearing your name somewhere before. 'Erhard,' wasn't it?" Her eyebrows barely formed angles as she murmured, "I didn't recognize your face when I saw you, though."

Nothing came out from the orphan as _she _sprung out of the chair to admire the sunny environment. The pleasant vibe throughout the space was then interrupted by the lady from behind after she swallowed a mouthful of rice, "But you do look a lot like that specialist..." Though the adolescent girl had a clue of who she was talking about, _she herself _couldn't convey that knowledge when she stood still just to map out the floor.

"The guy you knocked over not so long ago...The prisoner?"

Dr. Torres thought the gossip among the hospital staff was popular; adequate enough for the kid to learn that fact. "Nobody told you that yet?" The stupor from the mute led her to reckon that Gabe may have 'helped' this guy make some friends yesterday. "He's...an innocent man. Forget what I said." This informative side became a brutal thing.

The controversy simmered down within seconds as Erhard sat down and waited on the EMT, at the same time, ruminating. Maria cut the holding out time short by completing her meal sooner. She abruptly noted as she scooped up the trash, "Damn, I forgot there was an assembly today...Let's go." Without saying much else, she flung a fortune cookie to the companion, dumped the empty cartons and utensils, and scuffled back on over to the old ward with the reluctant minor— all in a crazy, unpremeditated, haste.

* * *

><p>The leader of the Resurgam first response squad, in her dart, had a extravagant debut. If only her unpunctual entry didn't send a bad message through the new recruits...It already did to her co-workers, who seemed to lour the captain's late appearance with fake smiles. She had an rocky start with her voice, "S-sorry about that guys. I had an errand... Anyways, welcome to the Resurgam team. Nice to see all of you signed up..." Her feet sped to the other side with a steadfast confidence, past the line of brand-new citrus-orange jackets.<p>

The presentation carried on with the orphan sheltering behind a column near the doorway, measures taken to avert undesired eyes. _She_ hardly embraced the meeting, as _she_ was the outlier of the group, even to the row of starters. Though secluding oneself _she_ never minded. "I'm Dr. Maria Torres. The other doctors behind me are here to help you all out on your first days..." And an ear to a irrelevant subject _she_ could bear through. A conservative mentality led _her_ to survey the event:

These fledglings for the emergency crew consisted of mainly males, and so were the lieutenants in the back exchanging names with them. The bright red-head was first to speak, then a dauntless African-American, then...

Him.

_She _felt _her_ scarlet eyes nearly bulge out as _she_ rotated back-to-back against the stone pillar, pitting _herself_ away from the congregation. That ongoing intro's every sentence sent a frisson down_ her _spine; a numb spell proceeded after the source of horror passed. On the verge of breaking down from panic in the corner, _she_ resorted to escape. The wide gate-like doors of the ward would normally take a minute to pull open, but in _her _circumstance, there was no lag.

Maria, the only one conceiving who flew the coop in that heartbeat, was in a soundless shock as the others pondered over the ruction. It wasn't even time for the kid to head to the diagnostician. And the guys here shouldn't freak him out despite the misunderstanding from the other bullies last morning. She replied a feeble 'I don't know' when hearing from another murmur, "What was that about?"

She was irritated by the infinite repeats of those words. "Everyone...Don't worry, I'm sure it was nothing." A straightforward bluff, and one she'll resolve later. "Darnell, hurry and wrap it up." Nurse Sellers, the other wild card in the group with his sky blue sweater, nodded as the crowd settled. He opened with his regards to the formation of new employees.

The last paramedic to discount the occurrence was the third assistant— perhaps the youngest of the four. His obsidian hair naturally flowed to his right, and his incisive eyes together had an umber color under the radiance from the shafts in the room. He wore identical jackets as his associates, with average wrinkled tan shorts and a t-shirt. A metal, clip-like earring was located on his right ear, if one must find a defect in his normality. This man, about in his mid to late twenties, had a bland composure; remaining unspoken for the rest of the conference.

Only after did he came forward with his concerns. "Dr. Torres, who was back there?"

The forewoman wasn't anticipating so, and uttered, "Kev-? Uh...that was just a volunteer of mine. I'll be talking to him later." She placed a hand on the back of her bob cut, using humor to flee from the progression of the matter, "The kid must have been spooked of something back there, heheh..." _What_ was the root of the fright was what she'd have to cypher out.

"Spooked? The jacket wouldn't be on him then." In a abrasive yet sedated approach of a disagreement, he left Dr. Torres alone in the ward, stumped. "Don't forget I need to leave early today, doctor."

The word 'ruthless' shot through her thoughts and made her doubt his job before she arrived back to her scrapped belief that the child was fearless. "(Wonder if he saw a ghost...)" The apprentice was tormented by _something _alright, _something_ outside what she knew. And she does know a ghost; the one a meter in front of her. "You're still around..?" This woman was the gifted person who could see it. "Something bad going to happen next?" Rosalia Rossellini's curse was to warn her, whether it was a crashing bus or a deadly disease. "Why can't you just find peace...?" The 'disease' part of it all was supposed to be the end...

Being a hologram, the soul's red ribbons, hair, and dress were still in their drift. The only movement was in her pink eyes, that lowered from the series of questions. Her voice was tender yet haunting, _"Help..._" Before one could shout back, she evaporated away like static on television.

"With what...? W-wait!"

There the lady was: alone again. She coughed out 'damn' from the wasted opportunity. _Help who? Why? How...?_ Trumpeting to herself with the infinite possibilities, she skipped out on the spirit's second transmission— reduced to a whisper, _"...the..m..."_

* * *

><p>"I don't know how to further...extol your talents. That was an impressive display, doctor." An endoscopic surgeon wearing a cerise, flower-themed kimono clapped mellowly as CR-SO1 withdrew from the operating table. The first procedure of the day turned out to be one that tested not only him, but also the combination of the nurses and Tomoe, who noted, "I must acknowledge the cooperation of the rest of the us as well, today's trial was...intensive."<p>

The specialist breathed out before replying, "It was." The rejoicing in the peanut gallery he was unresponsive to. With his gloves disposed of and final comment given, he traversed to the exit, about to part until a 'wait doctor' occluded him.

She had a weighted conscience while asking, "I...had something to discuss with you. It's about your stay here." It was lifted when he revolved away from the way out. "You are allowed... to visit the patients." Her smile wasn't exactly gleeful, but it wasn't too bare, either. The words coursed on, "I'm sure it will raise their spirits. It isn't mandatory, but many choose to." Even so, it served little. The man skewed his chin to a side, an involuntariness surpassing his 'I will consider that.' He had no comment afterward.

A shred of dignity felt misplaced as the woman gave him a soft 'see you later.' It was general knowledge that he was pronounced a mass-murderer. Those with the knowledge that he was a victim of framing: a handful. Crude it may have been if she verbally cited the contradiction to her advice. But almost a decade had elapsed; surely the people have cooled down by now?

"Dr. Tachibana?"

Overlapping her hands cursorily, she wheeled around. "Yes?" There stood a nurse left behind from the brigade that had transferred the patient to a room; she had called for the doctor twice already. A vapid apology was offered before Tomoe was told her station as the lead in an operation was due in two hours. "You're right. I'll be leaving now."

The departures of the surgeons spanned five minutes apart.

Distraught over an option he declined so obscurely, the convict traveled to an intersection of hallways, a short walk or so away from his office. Retaining an assurance of his decision, he sighed. Impartially.

Who would want to see him? A meeting would only inflict disappointment— a warped feeling of thanks to the facility. His conviction may be stripped from him, but the notoriety...This was his scar for life, and he knew it. Plus he has a fresh new thorn in him to worry about.

For real.

It wasn't a exactly a spike of any sort, but a person on the polished floor of an inlet, to the left of him. "Why are you here..?" It was that girl. She had a crumpled jacket sliding down her shoulders; it was indistinguishable to an acquaintance. "Were you with Maria?" He had two justifications why to not ask: one, she was mute. By definition, excavating for an answer meant squandering time. And two, that paramedic wouldn't forsake a child. Hotheadedness was not the case, for Maria did accept, openly, to have some custody over her. To be frank, he had long presumed that they would be friends...

'Erhard' had her back propped to a door. A knee was bent and the other leg flat on the ground; her arms cradling her head that stooped to rest on that knee. From this, CR-SO1 saw a third factor that surfaced, locking him in place. Emanating from the teen's statue-like position was a dismal feeling, so dark that it seemed impossible to dispel. "What's wrong? Was there a fight?" He had yet to heed the uselessness of interrogation.

She huffed out before pulling her head back, minimal eye contact as she did. The ignominy of acting like she encountered a ghost created a vindictive blaze in her eyes, which the specialist translated into...a meaning that had always alienated him from the staff of the hospital. She couldn't have came upon it so quickly. Unless she had seen the...

Unknowing of him, she was thinking differently.

The apathetic orphan, who appeared to retaliate at any given chance, realized her behavior being too hostile. She crossed her arms with an obstinate attitude, threatening with a 'I'm fine so just leave me alone' look. Yes, something mortified her, but it didn't have anything to do with that doctor. Watching him wordlessly retreat and leave, she pouted over getting found, but then blanked out at something else. Something was weird— how could he be so understanding and just go? She detected a contrite thickness in the air and found the energy to get up. Maybe the guy would explain if she dropped by.

About to step out of the niche she was in, her memory stumbled onto a fragment of what that green-eyed woman had said once before: He was 'the prisoner.'

That guy...what was his crime?

And was trailing him...a bad idea?

* * *

><p>He doesn't know why he keeps at it. Yesterday afternoon the boy wasn't there, this morning he made another attempt, with a suave arrival too, but the kid keeps eluding him. So he told RONI to jot down that the he didn't want the treatment. But this machine, complicating his job in every aspect, said the runaway's consent to refuse the help was imperative to delete him from Chief's deadening list of chores. Now...<p>

"I got you another operation." Before thrusting a folder of client data to the specialist, Gabriel readied to impart with a few pointers on the procedure, "It's should be an easy one. Esha says either Hank or Maria is gonna be there to assist." He had a no-big-deal shrug and sent the file flying to the desk, where he noticed the tracker band on the surgeon's wrist as the man put a hand over the paperwork. 'Master of Deduction' saw a bad mood emerging from a mile away, but it compelled him push further into the matter than back out. "Hey kid, you angry at something?" He just hoped it wasn't him.

CR-SO1, whose lab coat was hung up behind the door, squinted at his closing hand and blurted back, "N-nothing. Thank you." He forced back the wobbly voice and exerted a solid one, "Anything else?" His glance curved to the window from the papers, not too keen on facing the visitor.

"No. I...guess I'll be going." Dr. Cunningham grumbled in a smug way. Too sluggish to just slip on out, he freely referenced to another painstaking ordeal, "Since I mentioned Maria already...if you see her with that girl..." He muttered the rest while being met with a sketchy silence. "Looking for me..." It was not at all comfortable to beg, "You don't mind...um, taking her in, do you? So far she hates my guts, so..." Past-experience with a youngster close to beating him up was a nightmare worth reporting, but as a gentleman of his word, he couldn't blow the whistle on her...yet.

An alliance seemed sensible at this point, so the man called a truce with worthwhile conditions, "How 'bout this: I'll guarantee that you'll have enough operations to kill the jail time, and...I'll fetch a lunch for the little princess. All you gotta pitch in... is to keep her busy. Find her some work." Though the diagnostician would love to take advantage of that himself, giving a mute a horrible agglomeration of assignments she'll never complete was abuse whichever way you saw it. "Actually, you won't need to. Just don't tell Esha this, or else we got a problem."

His request was so assertive that there wasn't really a need for the other's agreement. "Sound's square to me. Later." He motioned backward as he strolled out, luxuriating in the productive outcome. The one with the short end of this bargain was the specialist.

"What? Hey—" The terms of this 'deal' soon drew the surgeon's attention, but it was too late to be pointed out. The extent of it was never specified, which only comes down to one thing: "Dammit...that means..." It wasn't just for today.

Sadly, that was when Erhard staggered into his office; at first peeping from outside of the door then weaving her way in with a gawky so-I-thought-I'd-pass-by-since-I-really-had-nothing-else-to-do face. Most of that was speculation. Rubbing her temples with a sunny yet excusatory grin, it seemed as if she blundered into a pitfall, and had shown up dingily to some formal celebration. Whatever the case, the doctor seated in front of her wasn't able to...relate. He watched her tiptoe to the back of the room, setting down the humiliation and putting forth a (controlled) high-and-mighty charisma.

"Hold up— I forgot something." Gabriel reappeared at the doorway with his notation, and had a snicker in his delight to see the co-worker excited to start. "I didn't say you had to get to it right away...That was fast." Not letting the man mouth a word back, he said to the girl, "Well, this is easy. If you see your friend anywhere, can you get him to talk to me?" The teen pretended not to listen, but Dr. Cunningham was sure the message was spread without discrepancy. "I'll see you later then, kid." He was out as quick as he chimed in.

The surgeon had a vehement hush; he would have to weather through that doctor's manner of doing things. He skimmed the requested appointment, alleviated that the outline of the procedure contained a mere three sentences. What had had left to cope with was...her. "So...was there a reason to coming here?" For a former college student, getting on top of the schedule was the way to go. In this, he was a bit shy of plans.

She, with the notice on her supporter gliding by, reverted her quirky glint from the window to him. Her idea was to pick up on some info she apparently missed... someway. The perked up personality of hers was tamed as soon as he asked, "Why don't you go back to your room? I don't have a job for you..." But a stronger resilience developed inside her when that disobedient, bossy self found the weak link in his dictation: he asked 'why.' The mute indicated she was teeming with arguments as she reserved a crafty smirk, but the thought of bugging him withered away when the man spoke again, "I assumed you would've done so earlier when I saw you in the hall."

With the flustered teenager put down, the adult's modesty subsided and he alternated back to the intricately engraved desk, which really belonged to a home office more than anywhere else. Studying the registered operation, he fumbled onto the key piece of information: it was at one o' clock. Now was eleven-thirty. It didn't call for algebra to calculate how long the interval was.

A thud resonated in the back, and the specialist slowly twisted halfway in the seat, one palm still positioned on the edge of the clipboard. His visitor was in that nook from when she first breached this room, the swagger restricted to a solitary contentment. To the doctor, her tenaciousness and independent entrance had a profound meaning...that she was snooping about for something. And the orphan had already fell quiet, perhaps inferring how arduous that would be.

"How long ago—" Initiating a conversation was illogical, but he went on regardless, "Since you...lost your parents?" He foreseen a numerical reply using fingers; instead a shower of stomps punishing the floor complied. "What?" Misery he had perceived but—

The cascade of beats was decelerated for him to count.

Eight.

The units could have been months or years. He converted it to the latter straightaway, as that point in history aligned up with another in his past. "Eight years? Did they..." It was that instant when one recollection had crept up to him: the grim mountain of corpses and their hollowed eyes that encircled him on the tiled floor of Cumberland College. In that monstrous massacre, how many families were severed and decimated..?

...

"_There's one survivor! Over here!" _

_ The police had discovered him in his daze and surrounded him holding firearms up, ordering 'don't move.' In the pandemonium, he met Ian Holden, whose noiseless rage rippled across the lobby that appeared to be a death chamber. It wasn't until a while ago before the Rosalia outbreak did the convict learn the real reason why this agent wasn't able to answer when he asked, "What happened to everyone here?"_

"_You...murdered them." He also didn't know back then that 'them' included this detective's wife and child; that was why Ian had no hesitation in branding him the killer and not a victim. Those shades closed off all internal emotion, maybe even veiling tears from being seen. "Every last one in the building." The incriminating voice had been tainted with arising bursts of indignation._

"_I...did..?" Those were the student's last words, disillusioned with the cold-blooded truth. He was chained and escorted out savagely, all that welcomed him was the heresy of glistening, sunny skies accompanied with eyes of resentment on the ground._

_...  
><em>

The surgeon's view of the same blue sky was obstructed by a girl. She hunched over to face him, almost raring for him to keep talking. "It's nothing. I'm sorry to hear that." She unbent her posture with an offended incredulity in her scarlet eyes. He choked out to defend, "I don't have any family left either..." Erhard paused, then slumped next to the man's desk. Never has her resiliency failed; now that its streak was discontinued, she could only rivet in the discussion bound to meet its demise.

"You are aware that I was charged for...manslaughter." The device on his right wrist was in open air, but its importance was minuscule. "Of dozens." She didn't see it.

Erhard didn't shrink from the harsh fact. Honestly, she didn't accept anything from the charge. Its not just what that paramedic had said, but the character of this condemned man. If **he's a** psychopath doctor that could take a life without a care in the world, then he wouldn't be stuck watching her, much less even_ be _here. And if that was not enough, one could add that **she** had struck out at him. Almost twice.

"You're not...afraid?"

Her spirits spiked up and she raised her head with a 'you're kidding' expression. CR-SO1 had an unsurprised composition that was shaken, but not enough to shift his view. What was the perspective of a child in comparison with the remainder of the nation? Looking off to the door, he grunted, "That can't be true. What if I were to—" He wanted to use a counterexample, that was, until two clicks and a slamming sound disrupted him. "What are you doing?"

There the girl was. Perched on the ledge of the window as if she was going to jump.

He, not taking any chances, instantly pulled her down to the floor. "You're out of your mind-!" She had a prankish grin from the accusal after the landing. When the he latched the glass panel closed, the concept that _he was on the first floor_ smacked him hard. So hard, he was in denial. "You didn't just...This isn't a place for playing games. This is a hospital..." The adolescent didn't take any of the outpouring personally; she crossed her legs, waiting for a particular reaction.

For him, it was a matter of seconds. He sighed. That was an experiment on reliance. "All of that wasn't necessary..." Not interested if the results were favorable, he steeped down to the chair. This kid was willing to go the extremes; a blooming hope showed on her when she detected tiny signs of laughter obscured in his annoyance. The sagging EMT jacket was taken off and became an excuse for a exit. Permission wasn't granted, yet she took off. "Hey— where are you..."

As the 'inactive' volunteer winded through the building, a prosperous feeling came to her. Though tricking a guy alleged as a felon was pretty mean, she got her points through him. Anyways, that niche she caved herself in earlier didn't vanish anywhere...

A fuse seemed to break as her zealous nature inflated. If only it did.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Aargh. The stress really is showing up in the writing, isn't it? *sighs*

OC: Is this a record? A month...and about two weeks? (Not counting, but felt like it...) Imagine the next update.

About that... I pretty sure there may be fluff and a little running around...eh. This was my shortest chapter so far since I really didn't plan on much. (still, reviews would be awesome..!) I'm going to need to bring my A-game on the next chappy...**and the math test...oh crap. I forgot...**

OC: Hope your readers are patient...I'm considering asking other TT characters to join this _fascinating_ chat...

Please don't have Maria go first. *gulps***  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I failed in uploading chappies. I also needed to reformat, so happy reading~

* * *

><p><strong>06_The Runaway_<strong>

* * *

><p><em>If only it did.<em>

However, that wasn't the only thing out there that could pester her in this short trek. When she had just stashed away that oversized jacket, a distress signal went off in the distance:

"Rats, this place is downright...evil! Now where's-" Yet another person had been entrapped in this diabolical labyrinth, and she knew who it was. When she explored for the person, it occurred to her that whoever configured all these twists and turns despised simplicity. Either that or she ought to get lost first before finding the...lost.

Wait.

She probably already was.

"Aaaargh...Maybe this was a bad idea after all..."

* * *

><p>"Hey kid, you're early." A not-so-pepped-up Dr. Torres said as the specialist walked inside, almost nostalgically. The burning passion of saving the day had already floated far off for the two of them; all they really wanted was a fresh start of tomorrow. If they could make it through the remainder of today. While he was making preparations, the leading doctor had a more pressing concern about that orphan who hadn't yet returned for lunch (the diagnostician was nice enough to include something for him, too). The cause could be anything, and hovering over that wouldn't do much good during the operation— he could always save it for later.<p>

Maybe not. The assisting paramedic somehow read his mind, bringing up, "By the way...did you see that boy around? Erhard?" She became cautious of her volume with the duo of nurses mingling in their prep work nearby. In a sincere manner, she continued, "He ran out on me for some reason...I won't be able to catch him until tomorrow." Tension evolved into a worry within her voice, "I just— thought someone could...help him..."

His peace broke with that. But it did so without portraying on his face the revelation he acquired from what was riddled in her words. As nurses carted the patient into the room, his mind, suspended at an unknown impasse, could not process the chorus of cooperation occurring across from him. He pieced himself together just as Maria, who was executing the final checks before the commencing, terminated the small talk between them with, "We can hold that off for after. Do you need anyone to conference the procedure or are you all..?"

"I'm ready." The prisoner said in a drab tone, his focus orienting to the surgery and nothing more when he selected the antibiotic gel.

A jolt hit the paramedic deep down, somehow invoking intuition to make her laugh, "Come on, this should be a picnic for you. You don't have to..." The proper phrase to avoid sounding like a distraction had always been difficult to select. The probability of getting this guy to liven up in the OR was probably as unrealistic as winning the lottery, but in spite of that, the woman heartened, "Hey, I don't even know why Chief even asked me to back you up..." The first incision had been made in the meantime.

With the vitals at the maximum and no imminent threat, the doctors who routinely prohibited needless conversation would now and then partake in it. The assistant passed along requisite surgical instruments and spark commentary on casual life; the lead gave abbreviated, single-syllable answers while anti-inflammatory treated the reddened areas of the upper intestines with each injection.

"Now that I that I think about it...you do look pretty dang familiar. But I can't seem to-" Something clicked. The grassy-green iris of the lady's eyes glowed, her question: "Hey...what's your name? You never told any of us." The nurses in the back seemed to enter the idea with silent expectations. But instead of coercing the startled surgeon into the spotlight, the EMT wedged into her rambling, "You and that boy aren't related, but I swear, I heard of that kid's name before. I didn't remember his face, though." She never pursued him for the subject.

CR-SO1 couldn't balance his attention span. He easily kept track of the simple procedure, and barely held onto the woman's impertinent statements, which formed and seceded like ocean waves from time to time:

"I wonder how he ended up in an orphanage; he seems totally fine with it, so I guess he must've been there for a long time."

"That fire from the beginning of this week was a lot like the one Little Rose and I were in. Oh— here's the tray."

"This is not going to make any sense, but I think the kid's too sweet for a guy..."

Aside from the gender tangle, the 'sweet' factor troubled him. "What?" Did she not witness Erhard's barbaric 'welcoming trip?' Had she not yet speculated the orphan's mannerisms towards others, especially with food? The man sutured the opening of the operation field closed as he neared completion, denoting, "You're not considering the main points...the tape." His hand extended to the right. "He had other options." Maria humbly handed a roll, sighing from the 'big picture' opinion of the other.

In it, she said, "Come on. Think about it." He seemed to ignore that by announcing his finish. She braved through with a respect to her opposition, "He's only being stupid just so he could help the others." Being rash was human nature. Some were able to utilize the benefit of the doubt better than the rest. So far, she saw nothing wrong with an instinct that saved lives. "Besides, he—" Her head, which was at a submissive angle, came up to acknowledge the specialist had disengaged himself from the confabulation. Unable to put up a fight that never really subsisted with his seemingly invulnerable composure, the woman mumbled to herself with the fruitless result, "Nevermind..."

He was gone. And with him, her connections to the issue. "Okay then. Get the guy back to his room." Dr. Torres spoiled herself by allowing the duo of interns to have the action, her mood downcast. She found herself in strife, but...wasn't sure how to split away from it.

She, however, was in a pickle. _Not _the preserved vegetable if one was predicting another lounge heist. (Though she'd like a snack.)

"He saw us, Erhard!" As everyone around them heard, Gary happened to be on the wanted list of this imagined scary, towering guy. The dead or alive question wasn't the problem in a medical facility— he just has a huge phobia of certain people. This wasn't a stereotype against doctors; there were just certain elements that contributed to his fears. The cigarette, the smirk..the guy in general. No hard feelings. "I told you I—ow, I don't want a checkup!" Even better, he was in physical pain.

The older teenager found the boy limping around thirty minutes ago, and instantly got begged into keeping it that way. In summary, their were part of a wild goose chase and a hide-and-seek match, which now included two tall men with green hair tailing them. Since mobility was their disadvantage, the 'sport' heavily came to her shoulders. She conserved energy by choosing not to carry the refugee, but with his trend to yell suddenly, taking cover won't be an alternative any longer.

"Face it, kid. I know about that leg!" Dr. Cunningham figured so a while ago after ten laps in the halls. "You're putting yourself in a world of hurt just by running around." Personally, he was in one as well by not asking Dr. Freebird, the true war veteran, to fully join the racecourse. As the 'Master of Deduction,' he already plotted plans to disband the kids' union, which he murmured to the partnering doctor, "Hank, either we knock some sense into one of them or get this over with. I ain't going another mile." His health and the boy's were are stake; quelling this carousel of people would take the full-throttle plan, that he deduced ages ago. "Can't we just...get this over with now?"

The professional at orthopedics fumed back in his tiredness, "Our best choice is to continue convincing them." He had never broken a sweat over such a misunderstanding, but he would never allow this to become tragic. "We can't use force...they're children." A scoff came from the colleague. More came with the giant's preach, "Gabriel, you must understand that crushing hopes isn't right. Those two are part of the next generation, at least give them a chance."

'I did' was mouthed by the diagnostician before he exhaled, "I know they're kids, but I'm _really_ starting to wonder if they'll ever grow up." Silly as things stood, all of it was coming down to the line: the shorter youngster's left leg had a possible strain on a muscle, or worse, a fracture about to complicate everything. He preceded negotiations under his pal's recommendation, aiming blows onto the girl's conscience, "Hey Erhard, I swear if that kid breaks his leg, you're looking towards hitting the road! This ain't funny, so cut the crap out already!" Obviously his vocabulary was far from Hank's liking.

The plea, from the opposite end of the infirmary, naturally stirred Gary more than the intended person. What his friend least expected, he whispered, "That stinks! They can't kick you out like that! The guy has to be lying!" A frustrated glare to the floor was the reply. "What do we do?" The rolling up of fists and releasing a curt smile were the by-products of the benefactor's determination. The walkaway patient nodded with dedication to prevail, "You got it." He declared, "Try to stop us, doc!"

"This isn't anything heroic, you— Damn..." Gabriel tempered as the combination of him and the second man observed the juveniles lam down the left, where some staff offices belonged. "Hank?" A reticent 'alright' from the ally kicked off an full-scale competition of speed. Their 'divide and conquer' sealed off the two hallways that sandwiched the lane the orphans fled to, but the two 'birds' of one stone...weren't there. "Huh?" The grownups stared at the other, with no one present in between.

Clinically depressed for his own repute, the fed-up doctor felt misguided. He petitioned to heaven as he paced forward, "For the love of god..." His company gasped, bearing a mutual fatigue. They each had their own ideas on what was next: Dr. Freebird circulated the building for potential informants, and Dr. Cunningham screened each room in this hall. If the seventeen year-old could waltz into the lounge before Esha modified the code, maybe she could have jimmied one of these doors; that was a long-shot in his guesswork.

Or she stowed the boy into that specialist's office.

"(Got them.)" He believed as the doorway's crack became a wide gate for him to triumphantly pass through. "Okay, show's over." The victory was busted with a wayward reception by the prisoner. "Oh..." And none of the troublemakers in sight.

A shame, really.  
>"We were you talking to?" The question was no doubt very misleading- a cheap way, to the 'visitor,' to express: You're nuts.<p>

Gabriel still had his priorities. "You didn't happen to see the two kids running around, did you?" The hired babysitter was slacking, but he didn't acknowledge that as he shook his head, ignorant of what trouble those two had brought onto themselves.  
>An awful silence made the increasingly bad situation worse.<p>

* * *

><p>"How the hell did they pull off a vanishing act?" The searcher mused to himself, baffled by the orderliness in the surgeon's domain yet to be affected by the orphans' desperate escape. Their magic trick was superb, and almost executed too well. Possessing a title he rather keep boasting about, the irritated diagnostician attempted to take on a task similar to the job of an acquaintance of his, Naomi Kimishima. "This is inconvenient." Forget the fancy powders and sprays, there was zip left behind by the magicians. Bravo.<p>

Utilizing the security cameras could bring Esha into the hot mess, so he was out of luck. "When did you come back here?" CR-SO1, not associated with the hunt, answered with an unsure 'recently.' He may be living a temporary life here, but in less than a week's stay, he was already a person of interest for the local doctor. The self-claimed 'investigator' interrogated in a less professional manner, "So what happened to our little agreement back there?" By now, that girl would want to stay out of everyone's hair, and he could tell a high-speed chase was purely the opposite.

"The child left and I went to an operation..." The resident of the room pointed to the lonely lunch sack on his left side of his desk, which itself effectively vouched for him. "I haven't seen her since." Bad news cut short for Gabriel, who found the limelight of the responsibility all too familiar. Dumping the idea of 'maintaining one's cool,' he gritted his teeth and found a perfectly fitting excuse to bring this search to an end:  
>"..." None existed. But a commitment to protect kids never truly rooted in him. Heck, he could care less what those runts are up to. Appointing him as a caretaker remained the Chief's fault, but overlooking a broken leg he wouldn't like imprinted on his records.<p>

"Get me if you see them." Resisting a temptation to back down, Dr. Cunningham twirled to reenter the sunset-colored halls. As he probed every inch of ground, the diabolical puzzle of how the blasted orphans disappeared into thin air haunted him. The rooms he skimmed so far weren't rigged with any gimmicks, and people nowadays typically don't practice sorcery. "(What am I...hallucinating?)" This was the last realistic theory he had left to prove wrong.

Unless the brats turned into smoke and filtered into the air vents, they had nowhere else to go. If he couldn't sleuth this out in the next minute or so, he might as well go into a tantrum and forfeit his career. To sum this situation up, he was losing to a mute that had not even reached adulthood yet. How crazy did that sound?

The man stood at a deadlock with where to go and what to try next. "(It won't be long now before that boy's going to the ER.)" He loved to ask the almighty one for a favor, but since that bus collision and Rosalia's rampage sorta disheveled things, he doesn't think that would happen in a while. Just something that could give him an eagle's view of the hospital was sufficient.  
>After a moment's thought, he felt even stupider. "Why did I not ask RONI..?"<p>

"Your idea worked. They didn't find us yet." Gary Forester, the main fugitive of the manhunt, was hushed in his sedentary position behind a trimmed hedge. His guardian was bracing herself against a cool-steel column of the edifice, peering into the glass without intervals. "I never thought about going outside. And that window was itty-bitty..." From the boy's lamentation of being a contortionist with an aching leg, the other became convinced that the threat that doc babbled about was real. Also, that opening was the size of a moose; its ratio to her was like, five to one. 'Itty-bitty' needs a reality check.

A thick leaf clung to the brown hair of the kid as his head emerged from the bushes. "Um...Erhard? I'm kinda hungry." His face grew sour, but lightened up with finding a paper bag laying on top of a desk. It seemed full to the brim and was waiting to get nabbed like some leftover candy from a dispenser. "Hey, over there..!"

The teenager traced his finger.

Yes, the food in there was free. The guy next to it was that prisoner that looked she looked alike to. "I pretty sure there's food in it. If that doc doesn't want it, can we have it?" What the twelve year-old didn't know was that this meal was in reserve until Erhard returned. "Do you think he'll tattle on us?" Plan B from going to the cafeteria herself was to retrieve that sack. The guy won't bite if she liberated the sad thing from his place. He didn't seem the talkative type, either. It couldn't be that bad.

"That's the one you shoved..." And he was also one of the few, no, maybe the only one, that never judged her for the bad rap she got from the fire. He had a steely composure, and that was the worrying factor. What would he do once he saw her? A suppressed voice snarled from the boy as she fell victim to her own curiosity, "Erhard! Where are you going? You can't just leave me here!" She already did.

He liked how they outsmarted the docs, but he wasn't advocating it. And he wasn't totally eager to get up and running again. Not in a while. "Shoot." It kinda sucked knowing this elders were always doing the helping.

* * *

><p>"There they are..." After surviving the long road to his office, Dr. Cunningham realized he might need to hustle back to where he just came from. On RONI's screen was a security footage of the two orphans: just outside of the kid's room. "Geez, I didn't think they could get out through the windows..."<p>

The robot was considerate, no, gracious, enough to play the video of them foolishly climbing out after opening the panels- he wondered if his pal was just trying to shove it in his face. The camera updated as she spoke, "Doctor, it appears they've split. One of them is reentering the building. The other fled towards Dr. Tachibana's residence..." As much as he didn't want to say it, the thing was quite handy. The screen showed both kids, the boy hopping on grass in the left and the girl running past the doors on the right. "Which one are you going to pursue?"

"I quit from running awhile ago..." The man growled to himself, recalling his official resignation from vigorous physical activity for today. "Warn Tomoe and get Hank ready for an operation...I don't think I can make it on time." He got up, but in no rush. "I still have a few things to deal with..."

He made a final stare at the monitor before he slipped out, specifically to one side.

* * *

><p>The guy didn't give a damn. In a less crude language: he didn't care. Almost as if he wouldn't mind if she leaped from the rooftop right now.<br>That was what the girl's insight told her as she confiscated the lunch. He didn't even bat an eye as she removed its presence from the desk. It was so effortless, that it started to annoy her- seeing him so deep in the useless heap of paper. Everything appeared to be a piece of cake...until he opened his mouth. With a sigh.

Here it comes.

"It's been there for a long time, if there is...protein in the contents, you shouldn't eat it." The prisoner had no idea how to convey the idea of bacterial formation and contamination to a kid, let alone a mute who had no interest in science of any field. She was one of the first that never displayed admiration to the skills of not necessarily him, but the entire staff here that work tooth and nail to save lives. The horseplay from running around the place like some playground was a bit of an insult to him, not that he'd let her know. He hid the idea by continuing, "It's been more than an hour." Add that to the cool temperature upon its delivery here, and you got a hazard. Leave it to the bio-terrorrist to point that out.  
>Erhard shrugged at the warning, any foodstuff she could gorge on was sufficient in her current efforts. But for a individual who had lived behind bars, maybe a smirk in return would satisfy him. Her alertness took its place as she zoomed past him.<p>

"Doctor, are you in here..?"

The girl braked and lined herself behind the door upon hearing that Japanese doctor coming down this way. The teen's head began to droop in the thought of brainstorming another escape strategy. She would announce herself busted if anyone else showed up.

Tomoe Tachibana, who CR-SO1 knows was also in charge of the twelve year-old, most likely had a forlorn composure from the immense hunt that threw the hospital in a storm. He didn't glimpse at the girl in revolt, her business he willingly isolated himself from. "Yes...is this about-" He didn't need to even repeat the story.

"Mister Forester, or I should say Gary, I um..." The woman began slowly, still making a decision on how to explain. "I recently found him outside my garden. He was in pain, so I told Hanzou to bring him to the OR." The tips of her fingers touched her lips as she tried to go into specifics, "Gary said the area at his lower right leg hurt...I couldn't tell what the source was..."

She may not know the name of the lady's butler, but a disdainful wince came from the disillusioned teenager, sheltering a crumbling hope and heartbreak inside. The games were over, not that she ever thought this battle of wits was a diversion.

The surgeon raised his head, not to further question, but to ask why he should know the information in the first place. "Do you need me to perform an operation? Why are you telling me this?" He stood up, and while doing so he glanced at the earlier visitor, without much of an appeal or disapproval.

"No, it's alright. I believe Dr. Freebird will handle this. I was hoping to tell Gary's friend about this..." To ensure the relay of information, she took a wide step forward to recognize the concealed mute, whose dismay was forced in and replaced with indifference. "I didn't expect you to be in here, Erhard... I suppose you are now friends with the doctor here?" An weak shrug was given in advance, as a flustered nod answered her supposition. The teen couldn't take in the smile that blossomed on her when she replied, "I'm glad you made up..."

The teen's reflexes got a jolt in her discomfort, resulting in a flight out the doorway; the lunch was left behind. "W-wait!" That doctor saw straight though her and ridiculed her, and if that wasn't embarrassing, what was? She didn't care where she was fleeing to, there was absolutely no way she would turn back. Her, quote, 'friend' also put on resistance to that statement. He seated himself, anticipating that Dr. Tachibana would depart...tranquilly.

Instead, she stayed behind. "The child was unconscious when we found him." Her voice's enthusiasm was what left. "Dr. Cunningham left a message informing about his fracture...I fear it had worsened on his fall." A white lie caused no harm, but the arrangement and selection of words could make a huge difference. To Tomoe, it was day and night. She hung on to an optimism when she noted the older orphan. "I still think...he does care for others."

Everything she said belonged except the conclusion. Not fathoming the efforts in it, he said, "I wouldn't call it caring. All he is doing is interfering..."

"Doctor-"

The man backed from his argument only a little with the interjection. "He can't even-" Another interruption, but this one only, cut him off completely. It was a single smacking sound that focused the two doctors.

* * *

><p>A puny fist versus a dry yet broad hand. An offensive adolescent and the defending adult. "Really. Beating me up will fix something?"<br>Gabriel grunted as he pushed the angered hand back to its owner, who shunned herself away from the man's chiding, "You think you're all that smart? Well congratulations...on breaking the kid's leg." He already breached the wrath of the girl; that nasty glare in her eyes forewarned him about the next soaring boot-to-the-head rarin' to get him. "You won't need to fight me. Good luck when the lady boss comes in and kicks you into the streets."

Erhard, not too absorbed in the man's call for change, trudged past him. Acrimony and scorn had washed away her old confidence as she went away.

That left the 'Master of Deduction' to check with the specialist; there was no reaction at seeing Tomoe being part of the show. "Hank's working in the OR. I think the kid's gonna be fine, but Esha isn't happy to pay for it." Or will she like doing the explanation, he thought to himself. After the silent treatments, he went on with an honest opinion, "The kid's a nut-job. I'm sorry, but he needs help...more the reason why we shouldn't ditch him on the road."

He kept his stay in the room temporary. Staring out at the sunset, he sighed, "I think I'll lived here long enough to know that out there it ain't pretty at night." His goodbye was left open-ended for the co-workers, "Well the kid got the message. Let's just leave at that." The endoscopic surgeon begged to differ, but failed to speak up on time.

She knelt down to retrieve the bag the teenager discarded when she aborted her compromised mission. "Was this the child's?" She held it respectively, waiting for the other to disclose the inside.

The beginning portion of his reply was cloudy, "Yeah. But it's not important anymore..." That girl's dissent explicitly said she won't need it. "You can leave it here." She was in many ways a persistent person, which will be a downfall in her solitary life. That combined with muteness and other setbacks slimmed her chances of success.

He, charged for the unforgivable, was sinking to a similar fate. Branded as a felon and then praised like a savior...that was it. To him, that promise of freedom just masked his bleak future. Perhaps it was a lie after all. Hah.

"Alright." Dr. Tachibana surrendered her curiosity as she set the sack atop the portfolios of procedures in the following weeks. After she was gone, the surgeon didn't run into another distraction in a while.

He didn't know what to do with the bag, though. It was becoming distracting on its own.

* * *

><p>"You again." Dr. Naomi Kimishima murmured as she strolled into the top office of the FBI building. As before with the Raging Bomber, a stern Ian Holden stood next to the recliner with two agents in black on his sides. The classic position. But this experience the medical examiner shared with her chief and Little Guy.<p>

Oh. And another change. This time the public's not invited. This same vanilla-themed room had no piece of media equipment. Blinds were pulled down and lights installed in the ceiling brought illumination. Cameramen were forbidden.

"It would cause mayhem for the country." Debated the detective as he removed his shades, revealing weary, thin brown eyes and wrinkled skin. This broke Naomi's calm. "I'm sure Chief Wayne mentioned this to you before." A file stamped with bold printed words the woman dreaded to meet slid down the coffee table. A lady kept many secrets indeed.

No incentive could trick her enough to accept David's words, "This was something I wanted to avoid, Naomi. Please understand that you were the authorities' last resort." The addressed narrowed her eyes as her boss seated across from her- Navel watched from the sidelines, as he would have preferred.

Acknowledging her destiny was irreversible, the forensic expert opened the file like a book. "How am I to solve this?" She expected to see the lack of victims and autopsy information, but not the clutter of data revolving about missing... "Is this a joke?" Pictures of missing articles from miscellaneous reserves, not money. They were all the things aristocrats swimming in gold would call collectibles. Some were from high-security locations, but all of it didn't apply to her. Not a corpse to 'whisper' to.

"This isn't an ordinary string of robberies, doctor." Ian returned his sunglasses, and Naomi's disappointment subsided. "Victims are random, just like the traffic nightmare from yesterday morning." This was another point in the woman's expectations. "If you need bodies, you'll have tons of them at your disposal. Just remember you weren't the first one to examine them." Her metallic earrings jilted as she raised her eyes to the speaker's.

The tall African-American facing her wanted to balanced the tension, "Naomi, solving this case-"

She rejected his help, "Is nearly impossible." The folder was flat on the counter with a pointer finger on it. "Most thieves are brought to justice within their first heist. Expert offenders maybe after their third." The digits specified composed a date. "Never has a criminal mastermind been able to maintain an active streak over almost a decade." Every syllable was a knife that stabbed the agents' reputations. "I'm presuming there is more to this than you're giving me?" By the time she finished, most were on pins and needles.

"Smaller burglaries are merged with other unknown armed robberies. The ones you have are the big ones." Rigid hands entered the pockets of the official's gray coat as he spoke, "They all have little to no evidence."

"That's not possible-" The secret agent in blue uniform denied as he listed, "There are visual recordings and possibly fingerprints or footprints..." He then paused to briefly adapt to the multitude of eyes and ears. "There has to be a pattern that you use to identify these thefts to be made by the same person." The blonde agent's intrusion into the matter burned into cinders as grim expressions were exposed.

The contradiction the man gave fanned the flamers of soon-to-be investigator's outrage. "That means every single time something like this happened, the cameras are cut, prints are erased, and a letter with the suspect's name is...mailed to your front desk?" She rose up from the couch after representing her agent's as she said, "Now you're asking me, someone who inspects corpses for a living, to save your dignity from a robbing spree you can't handle?"

Ian found each inquiry impressive, but David only saw Naomi losing her deposition. As her employer, it was his duty to answer her plea. "Naomi, what you said can be judged as correct." He directed her to the images of items that the rich would refer to as playthings. "But there is crucial factor no one told you and Agent Navel yet. There are...witnesses."

"No. We call them the criminals." The detective announced when he brought another file to the table. "Most of the stolen antiques wind up in houses of the...successful. Most buy their way out of this, so no testimony exists." Having negated Chief Wayne's proposition, he proceeded, "We need to put their hired thief behind bars. It won't take long for this to fall into the civilians' hands." A flimsy clear bag protecting a 'business' card reached Dr. Kimishima. "He anticipated you as our last offensive."

What she had argued before was perfectly accurate.

"Your decision?"

The note had a stroke of black paint beside the signature she interpreted as a bird. Yes, it had to be. "I never had an option, did I?" The flow of her hair slowed and she settled herself again. "Enough side chat. Let's begin." No more feedback exited the mouth of her workmates.  
>Time to end your game, <em>Raven<em>.


	7. Chapter 7

**I got a little lazy...anyways, happy new year!**

**Hold on a sec. Gotta put this up:**

**Warning: (insert word here)...I actually don't know how to describe it. It's not technically fluff, because I tried my best to avoid that...oh well**

**By the way, I think the format got messed up...um...I'll add spaces...**

**And if you have music nearby from TT, I recommend Sweet Moment, Sweet Taste (it's one of Tomoe's themes, but obviously not intended for her here...XD)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>07_The_Exploration_<strong>

* * *

><p>"What?" Maria Torres, about to fly off into the garage and ride herself home to crash, paused at the very news. "You're saying...he let that happen?"<p>

The woman next to her didn't raise her eyes as she admitted, "That I do not know, but at least Gary is in stable condition. I'm not close enough to Erhard to ask what happened exactly, so..." Dr. Tachibana's frown reflected the stress from the turn of events. It didn't revolve around her, but it was calming to know someone you just met wasn't crippled in the next few days. "How was today for you?" She returned the friend's question in an attempt to dose the fire in her.

That went the opposite direction with the paramedic, who was already distraught. First the mute left without permission, then he broke another kid's leg-the same boy he brought out of the inferno that engulfed their orphanage. Obviously, she didn't want Tomoe in on what was in going through her mind. "Today was...great! Um...The new guys seem to work well with the team. They got the back room cleaned in a snap, so now people can actually walk through it."

"Maria?" The endoscopic surgeon, overwhelmed by the outpour, centered her purple eyes to her friend's face filled with satisfaction. From the conspicuous cover up. she asked, "Is...something wrong?" Their syncopated footsteps that resonated in the halls came to a halt.

"Wh-what do you mean, I'm...perfectly fine!" Maria coughed out to defend her exploited intentions. Prone to overreacting, she let out a breath to look casual when that barking volume became a whimper, "It's...just the exhaustion from a long day's shift, no big deal. Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow." Because of the immediate cut-off, her friend didn't have the chance to offer encouragement.

The Japanese doctor's overlapping hands separated at the stampede of footfalls that left her. "Uh...Good afternoon, then." In the confusion of how to interpret this rather abrupt leave, a insecure smile dawned on her. Maria has a point worth giving, and to tangle oneself with the personal affairs of others...that she would avoid.

That ideal kinda got omitted from the tigress' book. If a problem came up, she would put on a fist and get right down to business. She gladly dived into this kid's ordeal, 'cause one day he was the hero and before she knew it he's the villain...something's gotta be wrong. And she won't allow it.

"Hrm..." She rumbled in her long walk. Maybe the fleeting orphan had a screwed up life like how she was a cigarette addict, somewhere around those lines. Now his disability of speech stood as her only roadblock. He could maybe write an explanation, yeah...

The door her hands smashed to the wall seemed to be recovering since; it beckoned her not to bang it as it left a gap open in advance. The woman, in her suspicion, chose to stay quiet about her drop in. "Kid...you in here?" Her head poked inside as she echoed. A red light gleamed on her little underground operation. "Ugh...dammit." The swear meant 'crap he's not here now what do I do.'

Bed, floor, stuffy suitcase, even the windows. Shipshape. TOO tidy. No sign of life, almost. Hard to not consider if the boy was a perfectionist.  
>He must have hid something. She could bet anything on it.<p>

For a professional accustomed to picking up injuries on the spot, finding the one misfit in the place could've been easier. "What's this? A piece of cardboard...?" Trash...like something a recycling bin would leave behind.

With a closer look, the careful paramedic recognized what the material- no, where material originated from. "Isn't this from..." The kid had an empty roll of dressing from either the hospital or the equipment of the first response crew. Most likely the scrap rolled in, though Dr. Torres fully acknowledged that Resurgam, as much as she may have wanted it, will never have a nice gale flowing in it.

No use digging deeper. She eliminated the roll she bent up with the nearest trash bin. But one more surprise waited for her. "Hey...you came to see a doctor?" That mechanic's eccentric buddy...blind as a bat in the infirmary as he backtracked here and there, a pinball speeding in irregular shapes. "Your name is...Jet, right? What are you doing on this side of the hospital?"

The African American discarded his puerile search; he still appeared goofy as he turned around. "Jesus, you aren't the only doctor here, are you? Where can I...get a check-up?" Not too full of himself.

Every speck of the whimsical guy lacked finesse to the paramedic, not that she envisioned him with a strong motivation to visit in the first place. "Didn't you check in the front?" The first thing all patients should see when entering: the reception counter. But no, he-

"I got in through the garage. That ain't a bad thing...right?" Most educated citizens would know to take the elevator down to the ground floor. "Do I need to sign up there?" Incredible, this moron.

"You didn't even schedule a meeting?" Though the degree of her vexation went over her capacity for it, she stayed lenient as she elucidated, "Sorry but your going to have to pay another visit tomorrow- with making an appointment. The doctor I know just got off from work." She had Gabe in mind, guessing that the two would be a adequate match.

The flagging adult sighed; his dreadlocks stuck out like a sore thumb in the halls. "An...appointment? Can't people just show up when they need it?" Maria, quite amazed at the level of stupidity, bumbled over the need of walking the sore loser through what she deciphered as his first trip to the hospital.  
>"Just drop by tomorrow and I'll get someone to look at it." A bad knee shouldn't be too hard for her fellow diagnostician. "Be sure to go through reception first. If they need a name, say that you're looking for Dr. Cunningham. Easy enough?"<p>

"Hm?" He, about to depart, wheeled back to her at the advice. "The doc's name is Dr. Cunningham? Uh...yeah, I'll do that. Thanks a bunch." That comply didn't seem heartfelt, probably a sign of a bad day at the job. Dr. Torres questioned it, although the encounter wasn't worth reflecting on.

* * *

><p>To cage herself in that vacant room would be a shallow idea. An attempt to expiate would practically beg her removal from this building. So...<p>

Dammit.

Erhard fell against a tangerine-painted wall, motionless at her dire situation. She hadn't the patience to stall herself in a confined space, not when the Chief neared the end of whatever contract to force her into the streets. Stopping by at Gary's was not going to happen, either. Go ahead, idiot doctors, prosecute her for finding a hobbling boy that didn't want to get your help. Discipline the one that lit a fire and broke a kid's leg because can't speak for herself.

How inhumane. Childhood lied so well to the young. Venting with her every pound to the solid surface, someone was bound to discover her whacking away at the dense material. No matter what, she must remain strong...

"It wasn't entirely your fault." In her consternation, the girl spun around while that strength fell flat.

CR-SO1, coincidentally managing at his desk, was simultaneously seated at the front row of the act. True, he created a hypocrisy of himself by pushing the heat elsewhere when he criticized it before. This was the fretful copycat he repudiated inside from the beginning- but right now he just saw a lonely kid putting up an odious rumble with an unbreakable structure. This brawl both killed the peace and transformed into something...unacceptable. "Hitting the wall won't do any good..." He had his fair share of that back in the freezer.

Before he could take his eyes off, she invented a new method to dislodge the misery: Running. "Hold on-" The reluctant reaction didn't hinder the fleeting orphan. Perplexed by what he just caused, he mumbled over the gist of the statements. Nothing he spoke originally was discernably offensive. Why take off?

The steps went inaudible within moments. Did she quit already? No, the flight would serve no purpose then...

When that drizzle noise was picked up once more, the surgeon propelled himself back in the office chair to a better view of outside. There, in the doorway, the orphan breathed hard, her hair streamed to a trivial distance in front of her. In mere minutes, she accomplished a brand-new record on the track of the edifice. Meanwhile a feeble stature substituted the intense one from the accidental milestone. Observing the drill taken out in a instance, the doctor conjectured that this was once a part of her life.

She dared not to bend over to her knees, instead just one arm glued to the door supported her. Not yet has her ire been driven away, an instigation compelled her for one more round-

And he, no longer collected at this bizarre run, took hold of her pale arm. "That's enough, you're only torturing yourself." A deterrent blaze met his clouded one, thus he released her. "(Ugh.)" Never before has an adolescent dauntless enough been capable of displaying such a defiled expression. "Just...stop whatever you're doing." The fervor he witnessed before had contracted into a callousness.

A temper as self-destructive as that couldn't be from this afternoon. And hunger, too, was not a suitable explanation. He better leave her alone for now.  
>The distaste gradually turned into steam when she slid down and coiled up on the ground. Her lips pursed and her crimson gaze remained frozen. A relief; to see one guy in the midst of many sparing some pity.<p>

...What? Pity?

No- she wasn't going to accept that. She won't have a piece of it. Taking back her rustic mindset, Erhard rose up. No more yearning for excuses, if no one planned to defend her from the blame, then she must place matters into her own hands. That meant catching the mystery arsonist.

"Why are you still here?" That convicted specialist, jumbled up by the reformation of confidence from her, said as he switched on more lights. Dusk had made the window less reliable. The last streak of red had sunk beneath the horizon by the time the resembling orphan could respond.

The glare from the panels planted in the ceiling focused her attention to the mechanism on the man's right wrist when he sat back down. Squinting in the slightest, she understood more of the picture. CR-SO1 hadn't much to explain about when he spotted her noticing it at last. "I should be free within a year, so don't worry about it." For the teen, the clauses contradicted each other.

Her stay here was already excruciating. One year, might as well be categorized next to permanent hell itself. Demanding a change from the officials she would love to do, but the chance was slim beyond imagination. The rules were written in stone, but she could give one thing a try.

The residing specialist speculated the insertion of her hands into the gray pockets of her sweater and inspection of the upper section of the room with a dark glint. An anticipating smirk that resulted rocked his composure. She gave a look at the tracker band again, targeting the keyhole in it. "You aren't thinking that..." She came over and knelt down, convincing him with a dead-serious face. "You can set it off." Childish her desire was, she had nothing to gain and everything to lose. About the same goes for him.

She pulled out a previously twisted paperclip before gesturing to give her his hand. "No- And where did you get that?" No answer spilled out, even if she had the ability to present one. She should utilize this on the lounge door again for another time. Stuffing the jagged metal into a pocket, she reached out for a smaller paperclip that held a patient document together. After detaching, she straightened it enough to hold it like a toothpick. A tiny dent in the forefinger appeared as she worked.

The protesting surgeon rarely cared about idle curiosity of others, but for his own and a relentless mute's, he unwillingly allotted one shot. He firmly understood that it was unlikely the bracelet would signal from a wire entering its keyhole, since it was waterproof...

His expectations were for her to ferociously jam the thing like what her volatile nature called for. That didn't happen. Out of the blue, she tugged his arm down from the desk. "Hey-!" Her left ear aligned to the backside of the tracker as her left hand dished out the fine-tuning. Remarkably, the procedure was handled with extra caution; for him, Maria's beliefs may be right after all.

Due to the...precision, he had to bide his time. He stammered about dinner as the girl increased the pressure in her unavailing work, "I...might have to get dinner..." To sound involuntary, he added on, "Because the other doctor isn't here." She didn't eat lunch, so the bill may be seeing an extension-

An hushed 'tick' resounded when he completed his announcement. The two were stuck in their positions in an imbecile stillness while the tracker, with the red beam never functioning, pried open a centimeter. The wrist it choked left, but the gadget itself had no endeavor to follow.

The prisoner was speechless. That wasn't a problem for the mute. He thought he was dreaming, She thought she was going to jail. The brace, improvident to it all, was locked closed, and reunited with the desk top.

The remover's audacity leaped back at the sight of the astounded surgeon rubbing his freed skin. But his comments left her cold, "Even if it's gone, that doesn't mean I can run away. You're...going to need to put it back on." The controversy didn't branch off from the words; Erhard lobbed the credit anyways.

"I'm not lying, you have to-" Allaying her blithe mood he always...knew couldn't happen. Honestly, her rejoicing felt assuring to him- she didn't fall for the same bias most people and children lean to. And even with his refusal and the impending crime, she loosened the radar band.

She wouldn't listen to him, feeling like she had all the time in the world to do so. 'Maybe later' was written on on her face as she threw the device into a drawer along with the deformed paperclip. But before she could pull him elsewhere, he spoke, "I appreciate what you've done, but if they find me like this..." Badly oriented words only fed her interest of going somewhere. "I can't outlive my sentence." As much as he would like to view the outside, rotting in prison was still what he least wanted to do.

The orphan didn't sense that. Checking for specific things to ensure that they, no, HE won't get captured, surrendering the lab coat became mandatory for CR-SO1. He was positive she wouldn't try running with him, in fact, she was probably... "You're planning to go to that mall...aren't you?" He reprehended the entire plot, "I can't. Ask Maria instead."

'Get a clue' could be read in her eyes. She postponed her tug-of-war to motion a beheading gesture. "What?"

He remembered the paramedic impinging him to a wall; for a cause not concerning the girl. Unless she too went on a massacre, then she shouldn't make a fuss about it. "I'm sure she'll take you there if you..." Well, her disability would make it problematic. The headlong woman wouldn't give a green light to get dragged to the other side of the hospital. "Then ask Tomoe..."

His imitator went on with her ineffective haul, apparently settling for him only. "People will recognize me."

Wearied out by his languid means of a standoff, her only option was to leave. He needed her to fix the tracker back on...that'll mean...

* * *

><p>"This isn't funny, dammit!"<p>

Oh it sure was. Luckily none of the staff were around to see them play cat and mouse. Where they were headed and with the guy's hair rumpled, the 'people' won't miss him. She ended the game at the edge of the cafeteria, hoping he brought his wallet after the scent of food went into her system.

He'd better hurry.

* * *

><p>She waited on the outside of the cafeteria gate, almost taunting him as she was sitting tight on a bench, with her legs swinging lightheartedly. He, reserved but by a thread, stood from the inside. "I really...can't, sorry." No matter what threats or tactics she decided to use, it was impossible for him to...<p>

Staff would soon spot him if he didn't move quick. And with his snail's pace and lack of proper communication, she knew there was zero chance of winning this. The chain that Erhard wore on her neck swayed when she propped herself up. Game's over.  
>Her disappointment from all the work going down the drain was suffocating. But the anger didn't appear on her face, rather it showed as she was walking to the gate without any eye contact with the doctor. She would enter and then enclose herself in the room, and...shut up.<p>

About to.

The group of high-school ruffians on skateboards and bikes coming by weren't on her watch. In her anguish, she didn't react until someone yelled, "Hey kid! Get out of the way!" Her red eyes widened in panic as she tilted her head to her left. "Move, dumbass!" She, with her hands already curled up in her pockets, stood paralyzed.

CR-SO1 only reached out in that moment, however his legs didn't cooperate.

Those on bikes diverged and steered to the sides, heads and helmets alike rammed into either railings or a wall. The skateboarders tried swerving, but ultimately fell after passing. One out of the five total people stayed unharmed. The rest were up in a few seconds, tending to their bruises by rubbing, and all ticked off.

The infuriated skater still standing went straight to mild profanity, "What the hell is your problem, dipstick?" After getting off of the board, he shoved the bystander that was spared from the danger. His friends went with his example- to the second bystander's surprise, the ardent mute didn't requite in any way. It was one versus five...her temper had cloistered itself under an impassive face.

The female member dressed atrociously mocked, "When a car comes at you on the streets, you're supposed to move your ass, you know!"  
>Another member spat, "Freak."<p>

The head of the band shouted, "You could at least say sorry, squirt!" A slap went along with that because she couldn't. "Let's go, I'm sick of this moron."  
>The gang hit the road after the rally of abusive insults. The hard-boiled expression dispelled with a genuine, for once, smile on the girl. Good news was that the punks were gone and they didn't even graze her enough to leave a memorable scratch. Bad news, the doctor that wouldn't budge-<p>

Well you look at that. He moved.

"Are you alright...?" The discomposed man exhaled when he approached. He foresaw an explosive fight, if not from her, then from them. It was only when she was encompassed by those giving put-downs did he actually make a step forward. They had went before he could make a sound, though. Now he was too stunned to return.

Anyways, she didn't seem to overreact at first, patting her reddened cheek to reply, 'yeah.' The mishap she deemed to be a mess-up on her part. Also it was a stroke of luck, because...

She eyed him as his unfazed expression tried to bury his despair, her lips cracking that invulnerable grin from when they first met.

He was utterly...

Screwed.

With that, she latched on and never let go. "Wait..." She went, whisking him off into the mall without putting any of his whining into account. The iridescent display of merging lights almost mirrored her felicity, but the man she towed believed otherwise.

He was once an isolated wrongdoer. He spent about third of his life in an icebox. The next portion of it he was required to spend in the Operation Room. In the same time frame, he was NOT supposed to:

Find a girl with his identity,

Tend to her grueling entertainment and nutritional needs,

And absolutely never should he be sailing across a public shopping center with this loose animal. This certainly was...'goofing around.'

That lustrous play of colors from the stores only gave him the softened version of the warning that he'll regret this at the end. Same with the couples and families that snickered at them when they rushed by. Because of these, the image of the detective in charge of him never ceased to vanish from his mind. "Dammit."

Stuck with only ambivalence, the doctor, with his numbed face, could only remember to breathe in the dash. Their speed fell to a slower pace, as his 'guide' acknowledged the burden she was hauling. Net distance conquered was still unthinkable, despite how the orphan seemed to be full of energy during lunch that day.

Erhard Muller, incapable of understanding that lame stare the drained specialist sent her, had no mercy in her unstoppable path to the food court. He could tell her of the serious offense she committed, but the madness already alluded to one reason: He somehow was the only person that could take her here.

Again, backwards.

At least he had two factors that could limit this adventure. First was the chronological one. The mall closes or the mute gives out. In an urban location with an extraordinarily stubborn companion, the plan for stalling was out the window. It didn't matter, he couldn't hold her back even if he tried.

Now the second one...

Well, it was how their (his) monetary savings will fare. She didn't plan a budget, so...

As if she could forfeit the expedition because of the cash. In truth, besides getting dinner, she had other plans. But her goal was not to hurl the guy into a clothing store and get him a makeover. She didn't want to change her outfit either. What the heck; those clothes, jewelry, household appliances, and all that stuff she could see in a dumpster right now and shrug it off. Fashion and modern lifestyle 'necessities' bored her.

Don't dare mention the toys and dolls that parents use to delight their children. Those trinkets were both trifling and, in her view, tacky. Furthermore, she already found herself a plaything for her pastime.

What she was aiming for remained a secret. CR-SO1 had discarded the plot to gain friendship awhile ago, because if someone was willing to be just friends, they wouldn't have to design an over-extravagant escape-

Unless the desired 'friend' was a guy with an insane prison term. That would be him.

The cashier at the pizza parlor couldn't tell. With seeing a pointer finger to the requested item from the younger kid, he plugged in the numbers into the register and gave a grand total. "Uh...The medium pepperoni and I'm guessing two drinks...that'd be nine dollars and seventy cents with tax. Is that it for you two?" The ordering mute glanced up to her follower; she had included him already.

He, late to pull out the money, answered the employee, "Uh...Yeah, that's it." The kid next to him spun around after that, not minding the ten dollar bill being sacrificed. She did peek back in her hunger, watching a quarter and a nickel flung into his pale hands. He seemed unsure what to do with the change, letting the opportunistic girl nab the coins.

"And what drinks do you guys want?"

The convict looked to his left for a preference, but of course she had taken off with the silver. Preventing himself from becoming a roadblock, he replied,

"Water...will be fine." The customers further down the line appeared lost within the menu above, whether they were simply ignoring the lack of responsibility or showing compassion through patience he couldn't determine.

A hot pizza box topped with two soda cups and straws were the props of the surgeon's balancing act, sadly the intended spectator was exhibiting disappointment.

To a collection of candy dispensers. Keychains, gum balls, peanuts. Bummer.

She had the quarter at the ready, though lacked intrigue towards the displayed items. Personally, she would've donated the coins via the water fountain- the sweets just got to her first. Watching her blinking at the series of mechanical devices, the 'deliverer' settled down at a table not too far off from where she was. There he began deliberating to himself about what to do next other than eating first.

He chose to dive in.

Taking his time, naturally. The teen's aptitude for making trouble and her coarse etiquette he'll never catch onto. "Hey, aren't you hungry..?" But he was stuck with this magnet of misfortune nevertheless. All he needed to do to survive was to stay on her good side.

The twenty-five cents were abandoned in a slot for someone else, though the time-of-her-life vibe still reigned Erhard's mood. Bluntly, it was just something from that downbeat surgeon that drove her to do the irksome lock-picking and towing. He was kinda pushing her tolerance by seeming to be ungrateful and all...

Trying to put that aside, she devoured three slices while the surgeon was still nibbling his second. He overestimated her appetite, as she quit to continue her expedition after the third round, leaving him with three other slices. "You can't expect me to eat all of these!" She came to a stopping point and rotated with aggravation, with 'what do you want me to do' inscribed on her face. They reached an impasse, exchanging stares at each other.

The man's eyes swayed to the side, not too keen on directly fighting the girl's fixed resolve to move on. "I paid for this." She didn't waver with the clarification.

In fact, she just put on a naughty, negligent face. Who said she had to listen to him? "You brought me here." THAT may be true, but...he still would've bought her food at the hospital cafeteria. What was so different here?

Everything.

So...argument lost, she stormed back to gobble up one more piece as the surgeon attempted his third. All in all, they reached a compromise to trash the last slice, without a word spoken.

And he was bound again for another treacherous walk. At least she pulled his hand rather than his wrist, a slight relief to the sore there. "It's getting late..." His weakest persuasion skills didn't come with much results, especially since it was only seven.

It just made things worse. She went faster. Road rage, almost. Thank god they were alone for most of the journey, everyone else along the way could've been...collateral damage.

Other than his own pain of being lugged like insignificant cargo, he was getting impatient himself to know what the girl's up to. Right now she was backtracking, as if they accidentally skipped something.

When they came to a stop, he couldn't believe it.

"H-here?"

Either he was in the wrong direction, or... "But that's-" Before he could name the Build-A-Bear Factory in front of him, Erhard, realizing her mistake, forcibly redirected him to the opposite side, abashed that the doctor would even consider stuffed animals.

He never took her for a person who liked reading. Maybe she didn't. But all this way for a bookstore wouldn't make much sense if not. "I'm supposing that you..." When he was about to mention literature, she shrugged and backed off.

Oh. He got it now. She thought he was the...intellectualist, being the prominent surgeon of the hospital. "I really don't like to read that much..!" He wasn't sure if that was a lie; it has been awhile from when he last helped himself to a good shelf. "Back then, maybe, but now-" Did he really seem to stand out among the other doctors to this orphan? "Wouldn't you rather go someplace else?" What she had interest in took his curiosity more than anything- she skipped past most of the places children would frequently stop by.

Erhard, taking a breather on a bench with an insouciant expression, played around with the chain necklace of hers as a response. It was a no-brainer for this guy to be a bookworm, he had all the symptoms of it: dependence on reasoning, anti-social behaviors, and a strange tendency to reread operation procedures. She should make an encyclopedia out of this. For now, she would have to be a bit patient, and take his surprise as her success.

And with that the specialist went in the store, not for his own self-interest, but just to not upset her. Besides, they already made it this far...he should make the most of it.

* * *

><p>As for the mute, once she was through reveling the accomplishment, it got harder to stay put. A walk wouldn't hurt.<p>

She didn't need to travel far to meet trouble, though. Conveniently enough, it was right around the corner. That same gang, with their bikes and skates far behind them, were at their cursing again: this time at two siblings about Gary's age...they looked familiar, too.  
>One bully took his shot at yelling, "Damn, what's with kids these days? How come all of you are so freaking stupid?" Not unless he was charging down the road, like what happened with her.<p>

With the brother and sister surrounded by five at the end of a hall for restrooms, she couldn't come up with much to do. Against the gear the high-schoolers had, her speed wouldn't make it far. And she was certainly not up for close combat.

"Hey, we better get going, my curfew's-" The female full of facial piercings said before she was smacked by one of the other males, who later says, "Who cares, I wanna give these dimwits a piece of my mind." The cracking of knuckles terrified the young pair, and only motivated the observer to...

"Guys..?" The ugly woman raised her voice shakily along with her painted fingernails to point. "That twerp, he got our-" By the time the others reacted, it was a bit too late.

The grinding and tumbling clatter of metal made from the descending bicycles and scooters going down the empty escalators overpowered the sounds Erhard created when she dusted her hands. After savoring the beautiful wreck that formed in the floor below, her eyes glinted at the mortified ones of the gang.

She didn't see this as vandalism, more like a nice vengeance. And better yet, nobody was really around- at least the store managers cared enough to not call the police. Frankly, the only one that truly cared, was the one who recently began tailing her.

The last member whose equipment she couldn't send off: the skateboarder. "You son of a- get back here!" He held his board back there, so she expected a one-on-one race.

And damn was he a nuisance. At least the kids back there made it out with the ruckus, she presumed.

* * *

><p>"What happened while I was...gone?" CR-SO1 asked, at first dazed to see the girl still sitting at the same wooden bench. But with the strong breathing, he figured that she had...competition. "I couldn't find anything interesting in there..." His little adventure in the store came to a quick end when he heard about a miniature earthquake outside. But he knew the scientific evidence behind that was poor.<p>

"I think we should head back now." His 'guide,' with her enthusiasm depleted, chose to stroll their return at that request.  
>While she was leading the way, the surgeon spoke to his copycat, "Hey, I just want to say thanks for..." He couldn't find a better description for what exactly went on that afternoon. "Today." This wasn't what he actually felt like saying, but at least the mute seemed happy to hear it.<p>

She was overjoyed.

Until he said, "And- uh...don't forget about putting...that back on." He regretted his timing, after the whole time wandering the place, having to tell her to fix the tracker back on, what shackled him to the hospital grounds...

The offended tried not to bring up her temper. The adverse effects of restraining it showed up in her footsteps, which became slightly heavier with each moment.

"Sorry."

That did not help her any.

...

Watching the two set foot into the cafeteria, the pair of children that fled from the earlier bullies talked to each other. The boy crouched down with his sister, whispering happily, "I can't believe it...she didn't leave us after all!"

"Are you positive? It's been a long time; and she was never like that..." The skirt-wearing girl put a frown on while the brother, whose reasoning was crumbling apart, made a grimace along with 'hm' sounds.

"But...I was pretty sure..." He jumped up with a new confidence, "Maybe if we ask one of them...yeah, let's hurry!" He ran off first, the younger child in tow.

"Wait up!"

* * *

><p>*Yawn*<p>

**Well, if you survived that, than I bet the next chapters won't be a problem...because we're reaching the good stuff soon...**

Anyways, the next chapter...I believe focuses on the other characters...Gabe will be in it, I think...

I'm seriously getting murdered by HS, I mean, I planned 22 chappies, and I only got 7 done...*sighs* This will be ongoing, I suppose. And, I will not be using up my break this year to write...*goes plays around with X-mas presents* I need to enjoy something before my classes being piling homework again...

Well, please review! :3


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Don't ask. HS was angry and Rping was too addictive. .

This chappy is more of a 'info' one...You'll see. *nothing else to say, Alicia won't be waiting at the bottom, she quit awhile ago. O.o"

* * *

><p><strong>08_The_Tribulation<strong>

* * *

><p>Everything about the findings was surreal. Her cellphone rang with no message, nothing matched, and the clues all seemed to have gone with the wind. As of this moment, scouting for more information became futile- they had little access to the old crime scenes. The reserves they came to so far all had polished floors and updated security...the usual protocol after the officials had given up.<p>

Even Little Guy ran out of statistics to add when Naomi looked back at her hand of evidence cards, each appearing wild on its own when put with another: Snippets of scratchy video footage, worthless witness accounts, and of course, a plethora of photos of stolen material along with documents of their unlawful owners.

Despite the exciting discovery of a long-forgotten skeleton on their first morning on this case, their progress remained at a snail's pace. The dental records had no results, and the identification just...didn't happen. All there was to know was that a middle-aged, Caucasian woman with no info in the FBI archives had SOME connection to the thief.

So the higher-ups claim. All just to officially brand this as a murder case.

Dr. Kimishima dreaded admitting this was a cold trail from the very start- she, the one who objected to joining the manhunt, found every aspect of this unbelievable. First and foremost, she struggles with the case's privacy requirements; Alyssa (currently at Resurgam with Tomoe Tachibana) won't stand being out of it much longer. Then the lack of substantial data was taking its toll on the medical examiner...there were only bits and pieces to solve with. The deck of cards was basically a lost cause.

"Doctor, did you find anything?" The voice of her agent muttered out as the displeased forensic expert sunk back into her office chair after a third autopsy on the bag of bones from today.

"It was a waste of time." The books and pottery lined up on the designer shelf within woman's workplace didn't mirror the out-of-control stress building up inside her. The triple-checking only reconfirmed the presence of a bullet that ended the victim's life. "I still can't understand why this is related to the case..." If only the corpse wasn't from years ago.

Navel's sigh came through the speakers clearly. "I went through all the archives available...no surprises. It's known that the guy we're after can clean up after himself. The ID was probably important enough to delete." The thought that the FBI database was tampered with still shocked him. "If this Raven can break down the best firewalls...we don't stand much of a chance."

Naomi grew unresponsive, soaking in all the hopelessness the assistant was churning out from their one-day experience. Her eyelids were shut as she picked up his words, "He'll most likely tap into our conversations and evidence, so finding his location and identity will be almost impossible. Plus we could become his next..." He came to a halt as the listener never commented. "Dr. Kimishima?"

"I was listening." The ponytail of the woman was flung to a side as she tilted forward. "And Little Guy, let me remind you that we signed up with those conditions." She found the barrage of statements aggravating, but brutally true. But something else from what he poured out gave her a reason to lead the discussion, "One more thing...what's the chance that our culprit is a gunman, perfectionist, hacker, and strategist all in one?"

There was no answer from the other line.

"So, there's still the possibility that Raven is a group." At least being able to sort one thing straight gave the medical examiner some motivation to proceed with the case.

"But doctor...multiple accomplices tends to leave more evidence behind..." The agent bumbled out in return. Then he referenced back to the sections of video they managed to recover, "And the cameras..."

The earrings began rocking again as the woman murmured, "I hope you didn't just assume there's one person behind it all from that." She chided, disappointed that Navel would fall for that same notion the federals had. She replayed the black-and-white footage: there the gunner was, making a neck-breaking escape on foot with a dark, frayed cloak covering his back while taking down security cameras consecutively with flawless accuracy.

The movie ends when a bullet hits the screen.

* * *

><p>Maria wasn't sure how to grill the orphan with her questions. Not because he was mute, but because of his...good mood.<p>

After running out on her and sending his friend off to the OR, she couldn't say she was happy to see the smiles. Mix her irritation with a lecturing session for more recruitments to the team, and the aftermath would not look pretty. On the contrary, if she recalled how he was cranky before, she could assume that he had found some happiness while being grounded at a hospital.

The promised interrogation was about take place on their way to the old ward...

"Dr. Torres!" Darnell Sellers apparently had an affinity for calling out at the worst moments. "The new recruits already arrived!" He stood at the entrance, waving as if he was signaling SOS. With no other choice, the captain shut her mouth and sprinted inside.

The apprentice, disinclined to trot along due to the scare from the last visit, sat tight behind the same brick column. Waiting out in a dusty corner was tons better than trying to blend in to the teenager. However, listening to the same welcoming spiels twice proved to make sitting still painstaking. In five minutes, another escape plan was being drawn.

There was no sticking around for each introduction...especially for _that_ one.

To the gathering at the front of the ward, a typhoon seemed to have rolled by. The explosion of sounds brought an uproar among the newbies, and a skeptical silence from the lieutenants. "Not again..." The female manager in the crowd growled as she chose to run after the uncontrolled kid. "Out of the way!" She forcibly went through the lines of brand-new jackets.

A few yelled the woman's name in attempt to end her rampage, but the man who was next to make an intro physically grabbed her arm. "Doctor!" It was the stone-faced Kevin, the co-worker who made a cold remark on this same situation the other day. "This isn't a time to just leave." Knowing the tigress wasn't going to continue the meeting smoothly as anticipated, he spoke calmly to the veteran paramedics behind him, "Can you handle this?"

Nurse Sellers accepted the responsibility and with the same ringing voice, he requested, "Can all the newcomers follow me-!" He led a tour of the remainder of the aged building after stepping down from an elevated platform. The room cleared out with his help; the discouraged captain and the subordinate that saved her from losing it were all that was left.

"So you talked to him." The dissatisfied associate grumbled as he tightened the clip on his right ear. He scoffed dryly, "Good...That showed no improvement." Though he was the runner-up to welcome the additions to the crew, the showstopper failed to bring frustration in him. Right now he simply took advantage of the boss' speechlessness. "He doesn't belong here."

"Quit it already." Dr. Torres fumed while she uncrossed her arms in disagreement. Her head shifted to the exit, unable to let off steam with the man glaring at her. "He's just a kid, don't you get fed up with teasing him?" She twirled back to the spiteful man, dismissing herself with, "Grow up..."

Understanding what made the orphan go in a flurry was becoming a mystery she could no longer tackle on her own. Well, she had tomorrow to get this straightened out somehow.

The black hair of the paramedic that had been cut off from further contact swayed when he too glimpsed back at the ward's giant doors. "'Just a kid'..."

* * *

><p>Sure...it was another sunny day in his career. But he chose to drop the pleasantries, "Okay, explain to me why you only wrote down your first name on the handout..."<p>

The cigarette was sent to the other side of his mouth when Gabriel grunted. After disposing it, he leaned away from the back of his office chair to watch his first patient of the morning settle down precariously. The guy's clean appearance didn't forewarn the diagnostician of any problems during examination: The brown hair was neatly put into numerous dreadlocks, and the apparel was pretty snazzy if you asked him.

But the empty lines across RONI's screen was plain weird, hands-down. "Err...Jedediah?" Even the one thing filled in was difficult to make out- four syllables was a mouthful, but at least he wouldn't need to say it too often.

The African-American hesitated when met with the suspecting amber eyes of the doctor. "Sorry, but I was in a hurry...I was new, too." He shrugged and added on, "A lady around here said that you were the doc I could visit about these knees, so yeah." He jabbered on for a minute or two about his encounters with the staff member: all out of sequence. And just as Dr. Cunningham was about to stop the excess rambling, the man tacked on another note, "I guess the name I jotted down was kinda long...most people call me Jet."

Gabriel wondered if his olive hair had went gray when the guy finished his narrative. "That's...interesting." The talkativeness led the doctor to turn to the terminal beside him. He whispered over to the monitor while his patient began sulking, "RONI, is being paranoid a...symptom?" He picked up the fact that the guy's knees ached, but the frantic prattling sorta reminded him of schizophrenia.

"Doctor, the patient may only be nervous." His assistant complied, the screen already creating a list of common ailments. The machine's overly-tame feminine voice also reported an observation, "Perhaps a better form of greeting would help." It then finally decided to directly address the curiosity of the diagnostician, clarifying, "Paranoia can be classed as a symptom for behavioral disorders."

Before opening the examination with the usual questions, the 'Master of Deduction' reassured himself that Maria (by context clues in what Jet leaked out) wouldn't mistake him for specializing in mental disorders...for that would be very insulting. "Alrighty, so when did you start having joint problems? Was it a week ago, a few days...?"

"Uh...a couple months." The man's eyebrows mimicked the ones of in front of him as he bumbled out, "That's not important, is it?"

Although Dr. Cunningham wished to voice his opinion of geez-why-the-heck-did-you-wait, he cleared his throat and politely informed, "Since you didn't do the paperwork, I'm going to have to ask you a bit more than normal. So...your age?" This clueless fellow appeared younger than himself, but he must get the profile right.

"Twenty-" The second digit of the number never made it out.

"How about your job?" Gabriel rushed on, realizing that half of the stuff RONI was about to come up with will not make sense: Arthritis, osteoporosis...out of the equation. Unless the clothes were just for show and the patient was an athlete.

Jet nearly jumped out of the seat at the quick execution of questions. Revealing his age was a sticky issue for him with this being a first legit doctor's visit, but his occupation he didn't mind bragging about: "I'm a musician. Actually, a singer...too. I perform in a diner next to-"

"Woah there, I don't need a job description." The diagnostician, jaded by the overkill in detail, interrupted. This visitor couldn't even handle that without elaborating...and the gut feeling of paranoia seemed a reality for the doctor. So he confronted it, "I don't want to be rude, but are you the kind to- uh, enjoy chatting?" At this point he thought himself not necessarily as 'rude,' but awfully 'strange.'

The response was as slow as a confession, "Oh, you could tell...Sorry." The golden color of the man's eyes darkened as he admitted, "I don't trust doctors, and hospitals, as much as I used to, you know what I mean?"

Not really.

What was just spoken became a huge blow to the pride of the one who survived medical college. But demanding respect from a person who obviously had a rough history with medicine wasn't of importance to Gabriel, who retorted indifferently, "Well, what I'm trying to get across is that you should be honest about these types of things from the start..." He almost got the machine to record something totally inaccurate because of the misinterpretation.

Once realizing the fault behind his act, Jet took things down a notch and said, "The knees only hurt like crazy when I have to run somewhere." He leaped ahead on the 'Master of Deduction's' train of thought and included something else useful, "And I...exercise weekly."

Now that this was serious business, Dr. Cunningham had a hand to his chin while thinking. "(Regular activity wouldn't cause joint issues, not in somebody that age...) You didn't happen to sprain it and continued jogging, right?" This adult wasn't the stubborn type...in fact, he seemed a bit resistant to hard work, judging by the blank chart he turned in before the appointment.

"It probably happened...twice, I think?" The voice went shaky again with the uncertain estimate.

"You 'think?'" Protocol was to hunt down symptoms, not try to guess out the truth value of every statement. If they go on at this pace, RONI won't get too far in compiling a checklist. "Is there swelling, or any odd colors?" Concrete signs were what his 'buddy' was waiting for.

"No, I would've come here sooner then." The man replied humbly, acknowledging how pointless his case was. "Maybe this isn't anything after all..." His hopes of getting a fast cure sank while the doctor ran out of effective inquiries.

As the diagnostician pushed back the chair to the desk, he sighed listlessly. He could order a scan, but the man would most likely refuse. The pain didn't seem to effect him greatly, so he ended with, "If this keeps up, come back and I'll take another look. Just avoid working out for now, got it?"

"Wait, you're telling me to stop completely...for a while?"

When Gabriel turned to Jet's direction, he became suspicious of the man's panic. "What, you're a singer, right? Do you have to dance with that?" Maybe the way he pointed that out made the entertainer appear amateurish. So far the patient's character was too inward- moving around onstage felt probably didn't match his level of charisma. Personally, an instrument seemed to be a suitable combination.

"No...I just got a saxophone and my voice." The musician rectified, careful not to stand up too fast. He was about to stagger past the doorway and into the confusing halls until he decided to give some appreciation, "Oh- um...and thanks, doctor." At least nobody tried to bite him during his short stay at the hospital; that paramedic intimidated him yesterday with the scolding.

"Who, me?" A new cigarette was stuffed into the mouth of Dr. Cunningham after he coughed the two words out. He wanted to chill out in his real office, and the random gesture of gratitude he didn't seem happy on receiving. "I didn't do anything." He grumbled out while his hand turned the knob on the backdoor.

The patient, who originally didn't catch on to this man's kicked back composure, called out one more time. "Wait-" A golden opportunity caused his eyes to light up when he requested, "Could you...maybe come by where I work and hear me...you know, give a night performance?" He kept a shy grin at the disinterested gaze of his doctor, who spun around immediately upon the idea. The address was mentioned as well, "Oh yeah, the diner- it's south from here. It's pretty close to Cumberland College...um...inside East Plaza. What do you say, doctor?" Those directions weren't going to work on a map. But RONI may have a clue.

A long pause followed as the invitee scratched his head. He croaked out one thought, "Do they...serve dinner?"

"All three meals of the day." A cheeky smile and thumbs-up went along with the announcement.

Now for the essential question: "Is it good?" Gabriel regularly hops on over to the mall next-door for his meals...because the cafeteria stuff just doesn't go well with his taste. He couldn't break the habit and drive to someplace new just to listen to some jazz tunes. While waiting, he gave a careful stare.

Wrinkles were made in Jet's leather jacket as he rubbed his temples, thinking up a persuasive response rather than a blunt 'yeah.' "I've been playing there for years. We usually get a crowd at night, so..." The problem in word choice was 'crowd' for the diagnostician.

"And why am I going?" The menu sounded desirable, but the value in going went down when picking up the fact that the performer already has fans.

The man, lacking the inspiration to make a great argument, shrugged and said, "Uh...it's a good place for a guy's night out." A wayward frown creased on the other person's face, so he made a suggestion, "Bring a friend for dinner?"

"Oh." At first the gap led the diagnostician to infer that he had to hang out with this complete stranger. Now he could picture his co-worker, Hank Freebird, coming along. "I'll think about it." He wavered over leaving the conversation as it is, so instead of walking into his little room of peace straightaway, he held back to hear the guy say the ordinary 'bye doctor.' On a whim, he yawned while still facing the back, "Drop the formalities already..."

"Huh?" Jet blurted out. His feet refrained from stumbling off into the building while he asked, "You mean..."

"Name's Gabriel. I'm sure that's better than saying 'doctor,' eh?" After naming himself, he waved back and strolled into his office smoothly. He shot a glance at the calendar then made a side note, "I'll see you Saturday night." A queer feeling came to him when he shut the door: fate had a tendency to shake up a few things when he abandoned his old ways. Something was bound to go terribly wrong. But what?

"Wha...?" The patient blinked a couple of times from the sudden agreement to his invite. "Saturday...is..." He mouthed the day twice more then shouted, "I'll tell a waitress to get a spot for you, Gabriel!" He finally departed from the examination room; though he still looked gawky while finding the exit, his entire focus was on what to perform tomorrow...

* * *

><p>The man who enclosed himself in the cozy room nearby chuckled at the kiddish excitement from that yell. He sat in the middle of his sofa, bent over with a mug of coffee in his hands. "What an oddball, that guy..." Resurgam and its curious faces, indeed.<p>

Hm. Too bad he never wrote down the surname. Then RONI could do some internet research to see how popular the singer really was- not that the doctor had the urge to stalk his clients.

Okay, he should erase that thought; the bad knees were more of a puzzle he would like to piece out.

"Gabe!"

Well, solving that just became the least of his troubles. Esha Patel clearly begged for attention, so he tilted his head to the second entrance of the room. He spoke curtly, "What now?" To him, the Chief had a glowing expression of joy, which meant that the something-bad-going-to-happen had just made his front door.

"H-hey! Don't talk to me like that- I deserve some respect, you know..!" The woman immediately began scrutinizing her subordinate, using the universal hands-on-her-hips to show authority. The turquoise earrings she wore today fluctuated along with her voice, "A-anyways, this is...about a new doctor I wanna hire." She tried to crack a smile at the man's callous gaze and said as an incentive, "You don't mind getting fewer patients, right?"

"(Depends who they are...)" Gabriel thought with a incredulous frown. It had been a while since his last meticulous examination with a pig-headed client. "Uh..." In general, the Tillman episode was enough to convince him for a change. "And the pay?" He almost let the financial aspect of this arrangement fly by him.

"The same."

He wasn't sure if the manager failed to do her math or was just playing with him. "Right...what's the catch?" So far the proposition appeared too good to not have any strings attached.

The one explaining bit her lip and grumbled, "What do you mean? It's just another diagnostician...she'll be working across from here." A small wait took place before she produced another answer, "Oh, and I'm assigning most of the younger patients to you." The facial response of the other gave her the implication that he would disapprove these changes.

A little debatable, but he'll have to save that for later. "That it?" If he wasn't restricted on word choice, he'd say 'scram.'

"Also, make sure you show her the ropes." Naturally Esha would go to him for that. She appeared inanimate for another moment, her stance the same-old crossed arms. "Did you see Hank by any chance?"

As much as Gabriel regretted it, he doesn't keep tabs on his co-workers. Wait, that was another one of her problems, again nothing to do with him. "Beats me..." The Chief wouldn't accept that, so he bumbled, "Did you give him an early leave or something?"

The forgetful manager relaxed her arms at her carelessness. "I just changed the lunch break scheduling...Oh shoot. Later-!" She found herself flying out the room, having an errand she needed to run. At the turn of events, the doctor couldn't help laughing inside...although he was unchanged on the outside.

"(Funny...guess family make all the difference.)" Ever since the sister crashed into the hospital, Esha's been quite clumsy...and for himself, he didn't want to think about it.

* * *

><p>"Pretty excited today, huh? Wonder if he'll ever get tired of holding my bags..." Claire Blunt teased quietly as she watched her closest friend in Resurgam First Care idly pass the marble fountain that was erected in the center of ATLUS Mall. She had crossed arms and let out a playful smirk in response to the giant's typical, wide smile. Her pale lavender eyes checked a designer analog clock that was featured in one of the stores and commented on his arrival, "You're a little early."<p>

Hank Freebird could recognize the elegant black dress and slender but graceful stature from any vibrant corner of the building. He was still a little exhausted from the long walk, and failed to bring up the matter of his successful negotiations with the Chief that gave him his shortened shift. Instead, he took the time to soak in the lovely picture of the grand fountain enhanced with gentle sunlight. "It's beautiful today, isn't it?"

"Hmm. I guess." Ms. Blunt replied with a easygoing laugh while she turned to share the view with her company. This memorable landmark was becoming a habitual rendezvous point for the young woman's shopping trips, which took place about once or twice a week. These meetings were a sign of her avid interest in cooking, specifically baking and making a variety of delightful pastries. Before setting off, she twirled a strand of her short purple hair as she asked the orthopedic surgeon, "Got any interesting stories for me? Sorry I haven't really visited lately."

The man talked as he followed her though the Saturday crowds, "Well, I had a young patient Thursday afternoon...He had a few of us running when he was trying to hide his injuries." He avoided specific names, and forgot about including some of the more crucial details. The one beside him perked up slightly; although Claire wasn't fully able to relate to this kid he was mentioning, the story was enough to remind herself of how she was when Hank first met her.

The doctor's tolerance on the issue convinced her that the evasive patient was nothing in comparison to her suicidal attempts. She assumed aloud, "So did this guy break his arm or something?" Hearing a 'no' from him only piqued her interest. "Really. I thought it was boring chase— you mean he ran with a broken leg?" Her attention was lost elsewhere in the building in the meantime.

"A fellow friend helped him...when he got the the OR, the leg bone was about to tear the muscle and skin. I'm considering visiting him later." Dr. Freebird didn't see, but sensed a tiny, wicked smirk coming from his listener. He must have sparked old memories with his last sentence.

The woman cheered for him, though she sounded more sarcastic than she meant to, "Have fun. It might turn out better than what happened with me." Too bad she wouldn't be able to watch it play out; child sounded younger than her.

"Thanks for the support." Hank chuckled, not able to conceive her intentions of a joke behind her words. Skimming the clothing and grocery stores nearby, he couldn't help asking the same old question, "Where are you planning to go to today?" His carefree friend shrugged with her hands up, but later set them down upon the sight of another face.

"Hey...she's here." The light hair of the girl swayed in one direction as she started waving weakly to a figure riding down an escalator. She shouted out with a frail smile, "Elise!" Not familiar with the name, the giant beside her wrinkled his eyebrows a little as he glanced back.

Instead of spotting the matching light blue skirt and blouse of an auburn-haired woman, Hank's eyes gazed upon the Resurgam First Response jacket that a man accompanying her wore. When Claire called out her acquaintance, the woman's brown eyes looked around frantically; the male companion, who was probably carrying her purchased foodstuff in that heavy paper bag, said something to her before gesturing calmly at the pair of pale arms signaling them in the air. At the same time, he stared coldly at the doctor's lab coat, as if a large blot was on it.

"A friend?" The giant said cordially in this rather warm surprise. He didn't know his old patient had grown connections outside of the people at the hospital in such a short time.

As the pair approached, one in more of a hurry than the other, Ms. Blunt winked to the dazed man standing at her side, replying, "She's a classmate from a cooking class. Talented." Since the young chef didn't want to sound inferior, she added on in a secretive voice, "About the same level as me."

Hank drew a light smile. "I see." Judging by the student's and her followers heights, it was plausible to reason that they were a bit older than Claire, perhaps in their mid-twenties. However the dovish expression on Elise's face deceived him to believe she was approximately the same age as the other hobbyist chef.

"Are you getting ingredients, too, Claire?" Despite the natural grace of the voice, both the doctor and the EMT were completely overlooked. Before he could introduce himself, Dr. Freebird saw that the two females had spontaneously began a conversation and unintentionally left out the men.

The black-haired stranger didn't bother opening his mouth like Hank. He crouched down and quickly relieved himself of the weight from the trip, his dark gaze going to the television set that was built into one of the columns holding the second floor up. Hank extended a hand out to the distracted gentleman, greeting, "I'm Dr. Freebird from Resurgam's orthopedics department—"

"Kevin. Assistant to the head of the paramedic team." The man refused to shake the giant's hand when he didn't break away from the screen, which was showing more news reports on Portland's latest traffic accident: the unsolved police chase that jammed the intersection of Old Ferry and Carson Road...

Hank drew a large breath when confronting this topic. "Were you there?" Esha had said she even called in those that were not on duty for the incident, it was a big deal. As he raised his head to read the headlines, he heard an answer that was different than what he anticipated.

"I was about to pass the crossroads when it happened, so I was the first one there." The face of the witness was impassive despite what he had seen. "They say It was a huge defeat for the officials...it was worse for the doctors." Making no comment, Dr. Freebird felt it was best if he left the angered man be.

But when the orthopedic surgeon tried to join the ladies in their chat, he noticed they already arrived to the subject. He concentrated on Elise's attempt to recapture her experience on the event. She seemed a little shy when she was trying to share, "I was working in the soup kitchen at the time. I didn't hear the entire story until I got back to the orphanage, some of the kids got involved in the accident..." She saw the giant's facial response and explained, "I volunteer in the homeless kitchens weekly...and..." With an embarrassed laugh, she confessed, "Develop my cooking."

Before Hank could assure her that it was nothing to be afraid of saying, Claire questioned, "You cook in an orphanage too?" By the way she spoke, the observant girl was already aware of the first location her friend worked in. Kevin finally gave the group his attention when he turned away from the TV, which had just started featuring a scheduled program.

"Oh— I run an orphanage on the outskirts of the city. The kids there like to travel to town quite often...and I can't always stop them." Elise saw the dumbfounded faces of the two in front of her and assured, "It's not the one that caught on fire earlier this week! That one is downtown." But she had misinterpreted their reaction, and for that reason, the lilac-eyed girl frowned while shaking her head. "Then...why are you two surprised?"

Being nosy couldn't be prevented. Claire played detective as she said, "That's a bit shady. You, a chef born in one of the richest families in the area working in a soup kitchen while owning an orphanage just out of town?" The suspect blinked naively as she verified the summary with a nod. The giant was once again cut off from the talk, he saw he girl tapping the side of her head when she chaffed, "I don't get it. You're too nice. Way...too nice."

"O-oh...?" Without a clue of what that really meant, the classmate was left to imply that the words were an exaggerated compliment. Her face remained blank at that. "I... I guess you can...say that?" The other cook gave a depressed sigh, continuing to toy with the ends of her bangs.

Dr. Freebird could relive that moment when Claire made fun of him for being too kind. To him, perhaps Elise was too pure-hearted to totally understand the former patient's doubts. The paramedic behind the unaffected woman was disgruntled at her aloofness, but took the chance to dismiss themselves, "Let's go..." He already held the groceries, an indication of his impatience to stick around.

Elise's reddish-brown hair, which hung down in front of her left shoulder, nearly flung to around to the other side when she whirled around in realization of the lost time. "Oh right...! Sorry, I got carried away." She hurried in her sandals after Kevin, clumsily waving back to the pair. "Nice to see you two—Goodbye!"

Watching to two scurry off, Ms. Blunt gave an entertained giggle, particularly at the lady trying to catch up in her long skirt. She sighed regretfully, "I forgot to ask if that was her boyfriend or not. He's too straight-faced for her." With her honest opinion, Hank thought about black-haired EMT; Kevin's calm personality strangely reminded him of the prisoner, but the anger made him think differently.

"Is he like her?" Claire grew a somewhat tense frown.

"Not...exactly." The orthopedic surgeon murmured back hesitantly. He wasn't the type to look at other people under a microscope like his friend, who enjoyed her perceptive nature. He glanced back at her to announce, "We better be moving on as well. Where do you want to start?" His former patient was still looking in the far distance, despite the couple already gone far from view. "Claire?"

The girl shifted a tired gaze at him, then beyond the fountain. "Let's check out that place first," She pointed with a dark-painted fingernail. The pleasant encounter must have been on her mind when she set off, as her face was unchanged from before.

"Is something wrong?" Now that he could reflect on it, she must have learned quite a bit from her classmate today. Maybe that forgotten hate of hypocrites made her think too much of it. "About that meeting just now?" He had a firm crease on his eyebrows, it was rare to see her restless over a minor discussion.

Ms. Blunt was peeking around the corner when she explained, "I...didn't ask what happened to those orphans, got too mixed up in profiling her. Hey Hank, how's that kid doing, the one you said tried to run?" The black dress spun out widely, the girl being hasty to demand a direct answer.

The doctor was too startled at her thoughtfulness to respond fast enough. "The operation went smoothly...I'll tell you more after I talk to him." Claire's eyes wandered from his face, her mouth blurting 'oh' when she remembered. She neared a supermarket and let out a breath as she went in in front of him.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N:

AHAH! I'm back with some more! (After posting a ton of art, might as well update back here...)

This Is about five thousand five hundred words, but the first part should get you through it pretty fast.

* * *

><p><strong>09-The_Altercation_<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>Prisoner CR-SO1, remain where you are. Otherwise we won't hesitate to shoot. You broke your contract, now it's over.<em>"

It was the dreadful sound of Detective Holden's voice spoken dryly through the PA of Resurgam First Care... He was the caretaker of a certain prisoner that was filled with utter disappointment and shame, to have announced such bitter words. The Police drove behind him when he ended the deal on his way from the station, and they now stood behind him as he physically entered the hospital.

"Send a group to view the cameras. Find him, and try not to fire." The man wearing a umber trench coat and the darkest shades commanded before hearing gunshots himself from further in the edifice. Though the cops behind him didn't panic, they were very disturbed at the thought of the fugitive having a firearm in his possession. The head of the team just elaborated, "Forget what I said. Surround the area, just don't let him go free."

Ian never imagined himself having to broadcast the termination while rushing from the FBI building. He didn't imagine himself stepping back into this place until another year. No one imagined him charging in with a squad of policemen...

Because no one imagined CR-SO1 escaping.

"I can't believe he's doing it." The confused tone of the many nurses and doctors who witnessed Holden and the others split up in the lobby in organized pods of four or five. The staff and civilians in the vicinity that froze in their paths at the sight either went aside in fear or stood paralyzed in disbelief.

* * *

><p><strong>3 Hours Earlier<strong>

Dr. Gabriel Cunningham was seconds away from having to get a nose job when Nurse Emma Wilson forced open his commonly abused office door. "Doctor— Oh! Sorry!" She apologized frantically instead of scrambling to enter the room on the realization that the slab of wood almost nailed the diagnosticians to the wall behind it. Thankfully, the careful man's reflexes sent him onto the carpet ground with a mug that spilled coffee right beside RONI's stand.

"You guys are trying to kill me," Gabriel panted in his shock, before glaring up the innocent pink clothes of the nurse and finishing, "Aren't you?" For this being the second time this week he had to avoid getting flattened...he wasn't too pleased, in fact, he was in a bad mood that afternoon. A hospital should consist of happy patients and gentle personnel. So far, the combination of grouchy visitors and clumsy co-workers was about to drive him insane.

Emma bowed repeatedly in a flurry at the scene she caused. She was red as a tomato when she stuttered out, "I- I'm so sorry! I'll get the janitors to clean that up immediately!" She was unable to fix her glasses with her head refusing to go back up from her bow, so she just motioned to the doorway and explained straight away, "But you have someone who needs to talk to you! He said it was an emergency, so I brought him here..!"

"This is why people knock." The disoriented doctor said as the intern's legs fidgeted under the humiliation. In an attempt to calm her down, he sighed, "It's fine, at least you didn't bash my head against the wall." He picked up his mug, now only containing half as much as before, and tried to move on from the mishap. "So who is this guy you're talking about?" His body recovered from the close call, and his loyal computer buddy over there seemed to be unaffected, even though an ugly coffee-brown puddle was sitting right next to it.

As Rapid Organiz-whatever confirmed the action to call in the cleaning crew (once again, it's the second time this week), Nurse Wilson pointed to the doorway more confidently. "He's right—Huh? Mister?" She went to investigate the missing visitor on the double, leading the doctor, who was going to exit his office in the first place, to come along.

They came upon an African-American man, or Jet, as Gabriel recalled, who was slapping the orange wall in his uncontrollable laughter. He had one hand around his stomach, as the funny moment was becoming painful to bear. Emma, whose facial color was now an angry pink, had her hands on her hips as she started reprimanding him about respect, just like the dear Esha Patel. "H-Hey! Quit being so loud with it! We're in a hospital, mister!" When she heard the lousy diagnostician snickering at her poor effort to quiet the man, she just puffed up more. "Dr. Cunningham!"

The green-haired physician made a brisk apology before waving the frustrated young woman to the side. He still was smiling when he tried to ask, "Alright...what are you doing here?" He already saw the musician stomping his feet on the polished floor when he was cracking up as loud as a thunderstorm, so the reason for the 'emergency' visit was not the bad knee. Since the spectator was still taming his reaction, he sneaked a peek back in the office, where Emma was ineffectively soaking up the mess with a roll of paper towels.

"Gabriel, right?" Jet started off with clarifying the name. He saw the other cock his eyebrow and took the action as an impatient affirmation, continuing on, "About tonight..." His volume softened in a lack of excitement. The one listening raised his chin an inch, remembering that he was leaving his office earlier to contact Hank about the night out, since he had a feeling the giant would forget.

"Well, I got a... family emergency, so can you come tomorrow night?" The golden eyes of the man glinted in a regret, although his awkward grin contradicted the urgency of his words. "There's a special performance comin' from me that night, so..."

Gazing at the man's slightly bashful approach to the situation, the doctor didn't complain a bit, but just inquired in a little surprise, "You didn't have to come all the way to tell me that. Could've called the front desk, you know." He let out a weary breath; this guy always took the long path when he had every shortcut at his disposal. "Sunday's fine with me." The change of plans didn't make his errand any different, Gabriel still needed to inform Hank about the shift in dates.

"Sweet. Tomorrow night then!" The cafe performer trotted off in a hurry after that— a very, very bad hurry. He didn't even go to Emma for directions back to the front.

The skeptical diagnostician watched the guy speed off to the nearest exit sign and mouthed the words 'family emergency' doubtfully. He wheeled around to question the nurse, who was still rubbing away at the stain in the carpet. "Have you seen Hank by any chance?" His attention drifted for a bit while he was in awe at the number of wasted paper towels that filled the tiny trash can by his desk.

The young lady dressed in the pink uniform looked to the man in a meek but sour expression as she replied, "Dr. Freebird? Well, Dr. Torres told me she was off-duty a little early today, She was planning to drop by the OR and watch him in a operation a little before leaving. The procedure should be done by now. " Emma straightened out her skirt before admitting the impossible task. She wondered aloud if the janitors were preoccupied, then left to get them herself.

Dr. Cunningham already went deeper into the halls, he wasn't going as fast as the other man, but he was in a rush nonetheless. "Of all times..." Finding Hank outside the OR was a bind on its own, since he usually roams from his office.

* * *

><p>After the mommy-like nurse left his room, an anxious Gary instantly returned to plotting his way out. With one of his legs in a cast and raised into the air, it was difficult to find an escape route. He just changed out of that embarrassing hospital gown back into his usual clothes, but one big problem yet remained. "This thing..." His flexibility was poor, and that excuse was enough to get the height lowered a little by the nurse, but it was still difficult getting out of the loop. "Man..." He temporarily stopped struggling to regain his strength; this was going to be a long day.<p>

Venturing out on his own was a serious mistake, and he paid for it. He didn't even know why he was fighting anymore. "I gotta see if he's alright..." In his current dilemma, he was in no position to break out and at least see his friend off in time, well, that was what his pessimism told him. "Why is this place so much like a prison...?" He refused to accept the sunshine that blasted at his room and was nearly blinding him.

His 'apartment' compared to the other rooms in the infirmary was rather small, so he almost always felt the urge to exercise his right to mobilize. Though before he didn't lament about the brightness of the light, he'll have to point out that the vase of colorful flowers on the bed-stand made him feel immature, and a bit girly. No offense to the people who replace it every now and then. Overall, the most upsetting feature of this place for the twelve year-old would have to be...the overdone-ness.

Sorry, but his taste in colors was not orange nor brown nor yellow nor whatever paint goes in between those three. It was too much. Too striking. Maybe he was too used to the old orphanage, because the original mix of bland colors didn't affect his emotions so much. This place, was a cheery-type slammer. An...exaggerated mental asylum.

"Why a week...?" The boy groaned miserably in his deadened voice. He consistently found himself whacking the back of his head onto a pillow that was extremely fluffed. It was that point in his depression that he heard the door creak open a little. "Huh?" His brown hair, which seemed gray in the sunlight, was thrusted forward when his upper body shot up in response to the tiny noise. "Who is it?" Gary croaked when he felt a little dizzy as a result of his quick movement. The door was on the left side of his bed, but on the farther corner; his head sank back down before he got a chance to look long enough.

A girl with short, chunky brown hair and beryl-green eyes popped her head into his room, later helping herself in. She chanted 'he'll never find me' to herself in a whisper. The previous words from the patient in the bed must have completely missed her ears; she thought the person in the room was asleep. Sure, it was rude to take a game of hide-and-seek to the private accommodations of the hospital, but if she was going to test Mr. Navel's perception, she would be happy to take it to the next level.

"Is anyone there?" At the stranger's yell, the girl wearing a beige skirt and a cream-colored top flung herself around in a gasp. She, without thinking twice, ran up to the person, who happens to be about the same age, and shushed him secretively. The kid under the sheets was astonished at the cute appearance of the drop-in and obeyed with a gullible frown.

As the girl hopped over the the farthest corner of the room, the area behind the bed, Gary lost his patience and murmured rapid fire questions, "Who are you...and what are you doing here? Are you an orphan?" He didn't know why he asked the last one, all the other kids he knew except Erhard have gone, and he didn't even recognize her. "And who are you hiding from?" She balled up in front of the bed-stand, almost ignoring him with her jubilant giggle.

"I'm Alyssa!" Alyssa Breslin declared louder than the intended chirp, and covered her mouth. She ducked lower than what the boy can view when footsteps could be heard from the outside. "If you can get him to go away, I can talk to you more...!" Was all the child with the healing leg could pick up before a blonde man entered his room.

The decade-old boy swallowed hard at the presence of a rather straight-faced agent wearing a sharp navy blue suit and tie. Though... the serious-face part seemed to dissolve when the adult asked with a lost and concerned glance, "Excuse me for intruding. Have you seen a young girl...with green eyes and short brown bangs?" Secret Agent Navel stood in the doorway with a formal stance despite the age of the patient housing in the room.

He couldn't loose his cool now; it didn't matter if he was forced to pick up the daughter of his boss. Sadly enough, he knows Dr. Kimishima well enough to say she wouldn't appreciate him complicating a simple task of picking up Alyssa by calling her in to do the job. But the assistant to the forensic expert was desperate. He would be willing to pronounce his disgraceful defeat to the entire world if he had to— he just wouldn't want this to scar his reputation as a reliable co-worker with the unforgiving Naomi.

"No...Uh...I thought I was the only kid here...sorry!" Gary Forester expected that to be sufficient to send the man on his way. The girl huddling tightly to the bottom rim of the bed thought the same, however the professional-looking man walked in a little further— just before a ring from his cellphone forced him to seek a peaceful spot in the outside halls. Navel shut the door behind him, letting out a tired breath of air.

The pair of adolescents waited about a minute or so before releasing their breath of relief simultaneously. The one stowing away in the inhabitant's room broke her silence by shooting up and saying, "So, what happened to you?" She spoke so merrily, the boy was stuck in a fazed stammer. Alyssa blinked curiously at him before speaking her side of the story first, "Anyways that man was going to take me home...But it's too fun here. I get to meet a whole bunch of people, like you!"

Her innocent appeal was too great, Gary couldn't disclose the mystery of the orphanage arson to her, so he just uttered in some discomfort, "But why don't you want to go...you...you have a mom and dad and brothers and a dog..." He was so caught up in the argument to notice the improbability of what he listed.

"No...I only have a cat...and last week I just got a new mother...well, she's more like a friend." The beaming face of the girl vanished as she began to ponder the other reasons for loitering about. "Actually, I was playing hide-and-seek with Chloe, but she's too good at it, so I lost her. One of the doctors was helping me find her, but we got separated when Mr. Navel showed up...I know I can't go home now!"

"Wait, if you only have a mom, then where did that guy just now come from?" The orphan wasn't familiar with all those names, so he'll have to live with the improper nouns. He watched Alyssa hang over him with a stirred interest to chat, and he would have to confess that he felt incredibly stressed out being seen like this. "And can you just sit down...?"

With her sharp eyesight inherited somehow by her new parent, the girl deduced that sitting in the chair across from her location would be risky if anyone entered the room. She was standing in the only blind spot. "If I sit there, someone will see me." Going back to the other question, she started blathering, "You see, my mom has an awesome detective job. It's not exactly like that, but I know that guy is one of the people working for her! Or...with her?" Now that she brought up the profession of the medical examiner, she couldn't stop. "She told me she got this huge case with finding some burglars..." Somehow that last word seemed to come out wrong.

The incorrect pronunciation was repeated with the other, "That's pretty cool...it's like... one of those crime shows with cat burglars, right?" Gary commented, thinking over those TV shows he would watch after dinner with the other children. He only pictured a cop in the field, not exactly the person that operates in the labs. "What do you know about the bad guys?" Now he was hooked to the conversation, which turned into an interview before long.

"She said it was...confidential stuff." Another big word that rolled out of her perhaps at little too suddenly. The daughter of the doctor involved in the big case stretched her arms upwards as if she had been accustomed to all the secrecy. She paused to assure herself the room had only them in it before whispering, "But I think the bedtime stories she tells me is exactly from that case...wanna hear one?"

The injured boy's interest was at its peak when he nodded. He also added, "Just don't make me fall asleep— can you make it really short?" He had a hunch that a his requested summary would degrade the fun of it, but he had a constant alarm going off in his head about the one dwelling in his room. "What's the bad guy's name?"

"Hm..." Alyssa hummed when she tried to think of the villain's alias. "Well, Naomi always—"

"_Naomi?_ Thats..." Now that's a very peculiar nickname for a couple of robbers. The interruptor was hushed with a shake of the girl's head.

"N-no... That's my mom's name!" Ms. Breslin clarified in her gleeful voice, this time with a little wink. "Anyways, she always tells the story with the bad guy's name being something to do with a bird. Crow, maybe?" After settling that tiny riddle, she came to the conundrum of identifying the thieves. "In the stories, she never said who the cat burglars really were...because they are too tough to catch." The smile died out of her when she finished.

Gary, whose hands were gripping tightly to the edge of the blanket, spouted out a few more parts of the equation the storyteller have left out. "How did they steal? And why can't they get them?" He was still wondering how a black bird has anything to do with the rogues' method of getting away.

So many questions, so little time. "They usually steal at night, and um...they always wear black maybe?" She forgot something else evident but it was worth proclaiming, "And they are really, really fast." Now she didn't know what was left to put on the table. "That's all I really remember..."

The kid was the broken leg nearly coughed his lungs out as he tittered away. "That's the usual! The cops usually can get people like that, what's so special about these guys?" Since he put it that way, even the girl's missing cat matched the description— except the fact Chloe was a single cat that snatched food from the pantry and not a group of criminals that terrorized a string of museums in Portland...

By the way...the pet was still on the loose.

"OH!" The girl dived into search mode by first checking underneath the hospital bed, which was an older model since with the frilly drapery on the sides. "Sorry, I'm supposed to be looking for Chloe..." Her abrupt shout and going through the bottom of the bed gave the orphan a little taste of what it would be like when he meets the orphanage coordinator, Mrs. Diane Kimberly, again.

A little out of topic, definitely. "What does she look like?" Gary went along anyways, despite him not seeing anyone today except the overbearing nurse, this free-spirited girl, and her drive home. When he waited for the girl to respond, he heard no movement from down below and grew insecure. He wormed just a hair to the side of the bed, choking out, "Hey, Alys—" His volume decreased dramatically on the realization that he had another guest. "Um...Hi...?" He inched back to his original spot, knowing he couldn't blow her cover yet...

* * *

><p>A towering figure exited the OR with a very satisfied grin. He let the assistants transport his patient to the infirmary, but had a word to spare for the witness of the procedure. "Thanks for supporting the operation, Maria." He wore both a proud and grateful expression when facing the paramedic that was off early today.<p>

"Sheesh Hank, give credit where it's due!" Dr. Torres vigorously patted the big guy on the shoulder and elaborated with a smirk, "Besides I didn't sweat a drop in there! So don't go thanking me." As plausible as her logic was, the orthopedic surgeon didn't accept her reasoning; the operation was extremely drawn-out, the friend's presence deserved appreciation. The woman humphed before easing his worries with, "You got great skills for toughing that one out."

Acknowledging that the praise cannot be helped, an exhausted Dr. Freebird surrendered with a gruff chortle. He dismissed himself from Maria, "That reminds me...I have to make a little visit before I can take the day off. Actually Gabriel was considering dining at a cafe one of his patients suggested tonight..." He ended up asking the EMT if she wanted to come with, "Want to join us?"

"In a cafe with you and Gabe?" Was her sarcastic reaction to the idea. "Uh...sorry, I think I'll have to pass. I didn't get that much sleep this week." She hoped she didn't appear rude with the refusal, but she already spent an extra hour at work today and survived two disasters this week, all the while towing a mute around...she would love the chance to be crashing at her apartment for once. Saluting to the former war veteran, she made her brief farewell, "I'll see you later, big guy!" Maria hustled off without the giant's response, which happened to only be one syllable.

Hank's goal was now to meet the recuperating child and make some sense of his endeavor to evade the treatment. The doctor debated over the need to talk to the accomplice as well, but he realized the pointlessness in in doing so with the disability. He refrained from deliberating any more until he arrived to the boy's room. He wasn't sure if he should be entertained by Gary's ambition to leave...because when he came in, the patient was bustling alive with movement.

"Um... Hi...?" The orphan centered himself, and let out a rather stiff grin.

Dr. Freebird, celebrating that unexpected expression with his own unrestrained smile, returned the greeting as he situated himself in the sturdy, plastic chair Alyssa had taken note of earlier. "Good afternoon." The flowers that were across from him did amazing job of accenting the room's mood...he thought the kid would get a little lonely this morning.

Already stuffing himself during the lunch a long while back, Gary suddenly remembered the queasy feeling of his bloated stomach at the sight of Hank, the well-known 'gentle giant.' Perhaps a drop of cold sweat started to form on his neck when he accepted the fact that he would have to stall the man from picking up Alyssa's whereabouts. Stuck in brainstorm mode for a conversation idea, the boy recycled the chat he had with Alyssa and asked, "Doctor...did the police figure out who started that fire?"

"No..." The orthopedic surgeon was still shaky if the arson was being looked into or not. "I still believe it's an accident myself..." His gut told him that there wasn't a culprit. Judging from what he was told, he trusted the owner, who not only shared the Chief's blood, but also her tough will and confidence. "I don't think any of you would've done it." It was a very idealistic judgement on his part, but he strongly doubted that mere children would have access to the materials to ignite the flames.

"Yeah." The day of the incident flashed through the mind of the victim, specifically the childish uprising in the lobby. He knew the eldest rescued him, and he owed his savior the support against the accusations that came from the adults. "Trust me, doc, Erhard didn't do it. So what if he's only been around in the orphanage for...three years? Just because can't talk, the other kids like making fun of him..." Maybe the gossiping youngsters got a little too far, who knows. "Besides, Mrs. Kimberly treats him like a helper when it comes to chores and stuff. He's the last one that would burn our home down— " Out of his own sense of justice, the one giving his testimony squeezed in a ton of names.

Hank wondered how long the list was; since he wasn't the type to cut off others, he had to wait it out. When the boy paused to offer some unlikely but possible suspects, the doctor chuckled lightly. Honestly, he could've broke into a hysterical laugh if the boy hadn't asked to let down his uncomfortably raised leg.

The brave girl hiding under the thick mattresses had the opportunity to analyze their words in her comfy hiding place— thanks to the diligent work of the custodians, there was barely any dust bunnies for her sensitive nose to sneeze at. She has no problem playing sherlock in this...might as well do something to pass the time. After piecing the account in her head— nah, she didn't even need to work to puzzle that one out. It was simple: Her friend survived an inferno at his orphanage. Cause...unknown. Though the wounded leg was still shrouded in a number of possible causes...it was bound to come up next.

"I came today..." The tall doctor spoke with his mission becoming clear again. "Not about your how your operation went, but about why you were...running from it." Gary stiffened into a defeated scowl when met with a obstinate gaze. He was glad his leg was put down before the conversation took a turn for the worse. There was a pair of crutches in the corner behind the surgeon, which he was determined to utilize later. Hank viewed the looking away as a guilty response and persisted in asking, "Why didn't you want the treatment?" He didn't understand Gabriel's reasoning of kids-don't-like-docs, and pleaded for a more acceptable excuse.

"What does it have to do with you, anyway?" If Erhard didn't trust them, he also had the right not to either...also, he never really appreciated Mrs. Kimberly all too much to put his trust to the sister, who was running this place with people too friendly for him. Plus, he was aspiring to be a man, so might as well quit being wimpy like some of the other kids, who he thought always cried for a band-aid after a scratch or two. "I—I just didn't want the help."

The word 'why' kept ringing in the man's head; what reason could there be to refuse, especially if the cost was free and it would prevent him from becoming disabled. "Give me an explanation...Not many people would dismiss such an opportunity..." Dr. Freebird couldn't describe how lucky the child was to have the OR available without the common obstructions of health insurance and money... Alyssa replayed the events of the past few weeks in her head. She and Naomi both had an operation, even Chloe. None had the chance to say no, and most likely wouldn't decline the procedure that could've saved them.

The angered boy thought the soft questioning trifling, the visitor was too kind on him— which was a waste of time when facing an adamant mind of a teen like himself. "You're a grown up, You can't understand what it's like for a kid, so just leave me alone!" He raised his head to the highest angle he could reach to thunder those words with his fed-up attitude. It didn't matter if Hank would snap back at him, the orphan had presented his opinion, which wound up to be a very legit and universal truth...something the losing man was unable to oppose to.

It was just like with Claire, he would have to come back another day with a brighter hope. "I'll...try tomorrow..." Since the patient was considerably younger, it would be unwise to make outbursts with the words 'stupid' and 'crazy,' but those are was crowded his mind and clouded his confidence. Although the unsettling thoughts failed to interfere with his orderly exit, the wrinkles of his darkened face creased more. Gary watched the solemn departure with some sympathy, his head concentrating on the status of the refugee below.

After the door was shut tight by the giant, the boy whispered eagerly past his right shoulder, "The coast looks clear..!" He however saw no response from below, and begun calling out a little louder, "Are you okay?" He prayed the myth of 'monsters under the bed' wasn't true...

Alyssa crawled out from under the bed to the opposite side with a robust grin, "That was really interesting...you haven't even told me your name yet!" Since she anticipated no more guests, she bravely seated at where Dr. Freebird was, her eyes still wide with intrigue.

"Gary...Forester..?" For some reason, exchanging names at this point felt strange. He peeked from the corner of his brown eyes: the metal crutches remained unused, and he was about to change that. "Can you give me those?" In the meantime, his body ached for some movement. He inches closer to the edge where Ms. Breslin sat; the heavy cast almost anchored him to the bed. He carefully slanted his leg as she shot up to retrieve the twin crutches.

"Are you supposed to be up?" Putting a little strain on her memory, she remembered that the leg was previously trapped up in the loop, so most likely the boy shouldn't be moving...then again, the supporting tools were conveniently provided. "And where are you going?" The fun behind her tone dried out when she handed him them. Watching him prop himself up in great haste, she was left to believe, "You're going to run away?"

He hustled over to the door and answered while using his chin to signal the door knob. "I want fresh air, and...Your cat is on the loose, too, right?"

"You don't need to help me find Chloe..." Was the objection of the girl as she opened the door for a glimpse out in the golden halls. There wasn't anyone around, thankfully. "Tomoe probably already caught her..." Just as she muttered so, a large beep from up in the ceiling sounded suddenly, causing her to gulp...she really hoped it wasn't for her.

The first sentences though the PA were from Esha Patel's fearful voice, "_This is the Chief speaking— everyone stop what your doing, we're going into lockdown! This isn't a drill! I repeat, Resurgam's locking down!_" As the cry roared through the building, the bright lights were dimmed to a faint glow and red exit lights shone the best. "_Everyone remain where they are, cancel any operations...Just stay safe!_" As soon as the woman finished, the injured boy fled the room with rocky hops.

"Gary, no—didn't you hear her? It's dangerous!" Alyssa chased after the orphan, now scared for what was happening or about to come down on this normally peaceful establishment. She wanted to tug him back to the room, but the powerful revelation on his face prevented her from blocking him. All she ended up doing was following him with hands closed near her chest in fright of what was at the end of the dusky corridor.

"There's somebody I gotta find...just stick behind me, it'll be fine...!" The leading child claimed as he continued to boldly press forward. As they proceeded deeper into the darkness, the twelve year-old felt a hand holding onto the back of his faded shirt. He had no map of the area, only his guts and instincts... Little did he know, the announcements weren't over.

The second voice broadcasted was more daunting. "_Prisoner CR-SO1, remain where you are. Otherwise we won't hesitate to shoot. You broke your contract, now it's over._" The girl clung onto the first word as her horror escalated to new heights; her feet threaded lightly while her hands gripped instead of pinching the clothing of the now uncertain companion.

The pair marched until the first string of gunshots rang throughout the building. Chaos and turmoil filled their hearts when they discovered that a nightmare had just entered the lives of everyone in the hospital.

* * *

><p>End Notes:<p>

The turning point is just around the corner~ (no pun intended...)

Chapter 10-11 (There's a chance it may just be one chapter, depends how much I condense...) Is where the happy times go bye-bye...well, at least that much is obvious.

I mean, if anybody stalked me the past few months on DA, you probably know whats going to happen next...well, it's probably not. Anyways, looks like I finally kicked Alicia out of the note area, so all the extra things go to me..since I am considering this to be my last fanfic piece (if I go too slowly, that is...) I have a few questions...

1. Really, what do you think is going to happen next? . Doesn't matter how obvious it is, spill the beans on me. Tell me who's going to get hurt and who's going to be just fine...

2. Gimme a wild guess on the identity thief's real identity. I hope I driven you all in the right direction to have the suspicions I'm looking for...

3. When you saw the beginning of this chappy, we're you totally expecting something but then got disappointed cause I took you back in time instead? Hehe, love time travel— I knew the middle part would've been a bit boring with Hank and another OC (and Alyssa) so I just threw that out to get you through it.

4. Hm... Which part are you liking the most so far?

That's it, the chapter will be up before July, probably...


	10. Chapter 10

A/N:

So~ the turning point. You either made it here after seeing the 'major update' posted on DeviantArt (definitely should see the pics for this fic on my page over there~) or the email sent you here.  
>Happy reading~ and don't you dare skim! This is probably the most intense of all the chapters so far!<p>

(I hope the indents show up...I'm guessing they aren't :/ So... single linebreak time.)

* * *

><p><strong>10-The_Conspiracy_<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>5:36 PM<strong> (45 Minutes Before Lockdown)

He left the OR bearing a wounded conscience.

It may not have harmed his skills as a surgeon, but while returning to his room, he constantly found himself reflecting on the memories of yesterday. The forbidden journey outside the hospital grounds appeared like a vague dream, something he still couldn't completely understand. As he strode into an intersection, he removed his lab coat and paused in front of his door with it hung over his shoulder. He held back from simply turning the knob to summarize what he was unable to solve on his own:

Prisoner CR-SO1 was Erhard Muller. The orphaned mute that was turning eighteen also followed by that name. This trouble-making copycat had to be someone else; the kid was keeping her gender a secret...something that came in conflict with the stolen identity. The most important contradiction was reviewed after the silent doctor entered his rather barren office— which was already occupied by another visitor. With her borrowed paramedic jacket neatly sitting on the side of the bed, the imitator that just crossed his mind uncurled from the usual corner at the presence of the prisoner.

Ill at ease, the specialist objected with a subdued voice, "You waited...here?" He didn't believe the teen was patient enough to ball up in such a cloistered area— she could have just waited in the padded chair if she was that desperate. While the girl stretched her legs as a consequence for remaining in the confined space, she answered him with an elaborately bent paperclip. The long, tiny piece of metalwork must have engaged the mute for the past few minutes.

Glaring at its form, the astonished man knew she intended to tamper with the device again, surely for another getaway at the mall. He let loose a frustrated sigh, which toned down her excitement greatly and eventually created a sense of guilt between them. One wished he didn't have to be involved and would prefer to have someone else more suitable take his place... The only problem was the girl had grown too reliant on him, whether the reason was sympathy or intrigue, he couldn't tell. The other had begun associating herself with this guy not because she suspected snitching, but because their situations were so similar...to the point where she felt there was nothing better to do other than getting curious.

They must have wasted a ton of time just staring at one another about the decision. The acknowledgment of the risks was mutual, the realization of that inciting a repeated dispute. Hanging up the coat, the surgeon moved to the seat the teen had kindly spared for him. He unexpectedly growled, "I'm not following you out there again..." The unbelieving turn of the head that acted as the teen's response was premeditated by the distraught prisoner. When he returned to gaze at the spacious desk, 'Erhard' finally made her first steps toward the exit, so he thought.

No, she was only thinking of giving the house arrest device another peek— the doctor's right side was just nearer to the door. Worse, she already had her little hands working with the jagged piece of metal. CR-SO1, who was both speechless and motionless, suffered the uneasiness that wrecked in him; the catch was he couldn't move a muscle now, or end up increasing the chance of failure. The mute, absorbed in her tinkering, wasn't putting her ear up to the tracker this time... she was pretty certain the giant paperclip she personally stolen and modified would get the band to open in the exact same way as last time. Though she wasn't grinning at her bulletproof plan, she had the confidence to raise her ambitious eyes up at the conflicted specialist.

Though he knew she was only a few seconds in, the tension had skyrocketed past what he underwent several days back. The sudden and foolish glimpse at him wasn't relaxing at all. As long as the orphan continued staying here (which, he he recalled correctly, would be another two weeks), he will be facing this anxiety attack again until he manned up enough to send her out of his room. Now, he wasn't implying he couldn't do it, the issue was that the teenager wouldn't listen...so far, she rebelled against most of what he said.

Uptight with his own actions, he didn't make note of the raised up tracker the kid surveyed. Having already separating it from his wrist, she had it up to her face to guarantee herself the bracelet wasn't damaged by her prying...it was enthralling to see the paperclip jammed in it was keeping it somewhat open without sending off the signal. To the other, her close check-up felt more like she was admiring her latest victory. After all, she left the 'trophy' hidden in the emptiest drawer without bothering to separate the parts.

"You can't leave it like that, someone could—" 'Someone could' tug him away from the office chair during that meaningless excuse to stay. Knowing what he mentioned wasn't overly concerning the girl, the doctor regrettably went along, sulking under his breath, "You don't need to pull me..." Some of the enthusiasm from her was missing when they paced in the golden halls, however the light shrug and open-minded smile he witnessed as his hand was released meant the girl still had a couple of things to look forward to.

While the prisoner started to lag behind her, he struggled to make more sense of what was occurring right in front of him. The one that was striding in a somewhat gallant fashion was currently distracted with the directions, the food, and the bill. The awful hushed attitude from the 'carry-on' disrupted her scheming. She wheeled around with a pent-up frown to show utter disappointment in the man's inability to follow steadily. That was when she spotted something wrong.

All the thought processes that was taking place in the specialist's head halted when he discovered a rare, skeptical glower from the mute, who later charged right past him and froze right before a doorway. "Is something the matter?" He shouldn't have muttered that, but that didn't strike him until after he finished. It wasn't unusual for a door to be half-way open, and there wasn't anything on the aged slab of wood worth taking note of. They haven't traveled far enough to be out of the infirmary yet, so perhaps he was looking at the orphan's accommodation? That was a pretty reasonable explanation for why she flew inside so noisily.

He also heard another person rushing somewhere around the corridor; now that he actually spun around to record their location, he knew they didn't go far from his place at all. He went into the normal-looking room to meet the more prominent concern: the kid, who was currently fretting over some nicely folded, black fabric in the middle of her bed with an immobilized glare. The second to enter saw the barren room, which wasn't at all sabotaged, with complacent eyes; the only items that resided in the expanse were the bed and the trunk-sized suitcase underneath the window.

This was when the Chief Surgeon, Esha Patel, spoke throughout Resurgam. This was also when the girl forcefully pulled the thick cloak off from the bed as if it was concealing a secret. She held the frayed fabric, which oddly reminded the convict of the garment from prison, from a chain, not noticing a business-like card being sent in the visitor's direction. He caught it on a whim, still drawn to the announcement regarding a lock-down, and commented at the turn of events, "What's going on...?" Well, this just reinstated the rules that prohibited him from going outside.

Right as he started giving more attention to the restive teenager, who threw on the worn cloth, treating it like a cape as she glided to the front of the window. "What are you doing...?" Unlike how she opened the one in the doctor's room during the times she tried to establish trust and helped Gary flee, the frame was sent upwards to its highest point. Making use of the wide opening, the girl heaved her luggage upwards and out— the weight probably wasn't as dense, seeing how her thin arms could raise the bag.

By now, he already gave up at learning her insane intentions. So he ignored the chucking of the suitcase and the loud shutting of the panel altogether. If she wants to move elsewhere by kicking herself out, he would have no part of it. He flipped over the blank back of the card that rested between his fingers: A dark ink smudge was beside the cursive phrase written in pen, which he analyzed just as Detective Holden delivered his news to the unaware fugitive, no, the entirety of Resurgam.

_"Prisoner CR-SO1, remain where you are. Otherwise we won't hesitate to shoot. You broke your contract, now it's over."  
><em>  
>"What?" Before he could put the blame on the girl's shoulders, he saw her in a stiffened stance facing the cloudy afternoon sky. There was no betrayal; she was surprised as much he was at the unthinkable turn of events.<p>

He didn't know what else to feel other than a sickening despair and a painful shock. Lacking his lab coat, he could no longer be seen as a doctor— the cuffs on the plain dress shirt he wore reminded him that he was nothing more than a criminal now. As darkness seeped into his broken self, he spent his final hopes deciphering the writing on the slip of paper. He didn't know if his heart sank further or not with reading the message:

'Trust me no matter what.'

He took a heavy step backwards while exhaling a trembling breath. The teenager that spun around with stunned, blood-red eyes snatched the note from him without delay. CR-SO1, waiting for the end, shut his own eyes as the mute scanned the card and shoved it into the right pocket of her jacket. She then gripped onto his wrist, the same spot the tracker once was, and attempted to leave the room with him in tow...he was anchored to the ground and refusing to cooperate. "Where do you think you're taking me?" The man, unable to hide his rage to the orphan, growled bitterly as his gaze almost intimidated the girl.

The gunshots from the opposite side of the dimmed hospital sounded, adding to the pressure between the two. The targeted prisoner, now considering his death, brought up his other hand to tear off the teen's grasp on him. Except she retaliated by placing something metal to his head. That something cocked and could produce the same sounds that could be heard across from this area.

"You—" With his image of the mettlesome girl shattered, he only dared to shift his startled expression to confront the identity thief's disillusioned one. She dropped the pistol from his head once he quit resisting her hold and bolted with him outside. The safety on the firearm was switched back on when the gun returned to the holster hidden underneath the distinctive cloak.

The five words from the card reappeared in his head over and over, causing him to repeatedly glance forward at her stormy hair. Stumbling to survive her speed along with the fluttering fabric, he couldn't catch her countenance, which would put so many unsettled mysteries to rest...

_Just who is she...and why was she doing this?_

* * *

><p><strong>5: 58 PM<strong> (23 Minutes Before Lockdown)

Chloe was snooping around like any other ordinary cat on the streets. The catch would be that it was roaming a lavishly painted hall of a hospital. With its charcoal fur seeming to stain the tiled ground, it was no match against Dr. Tachibana in the game of hide-and-seek. Carried in her arms and receiving a stroke or two, the discovered pet purred somewhat loftily.

Tomoe felt the whiskers brushing her fingertips while she was trying to keep the animal going astray. This was really one of her first times handling the cat, but it appeared to be fond of her. "If only you could tell me where Alyssa is..." The woman murmured with a slight melancholic tone. Already navigating the same place twice, it was clear the girl had broken the rule about entering the private rooms and offices. Dr. Tachibana sighed regretfully; she should've requested the assistance of Hanzou, a family friend and butler, in this search.

Dr. Tachibana approached a turn, her ears picking up a voice she perceived as familiar. She stayed behind the corner with Chloe in her arms, peering over to recognize the person busy talking on the phone: An adult with light hair and pale blue eyes wearing a crisp navy suit who was clutching a firm piece of paper in his hand while on his cellphone. Agent Navel— surely he came to pick up Ms. Breslin. The man hasn't yet noticed the doctor's presence, as he was staring at the note and defending his argument against the one on the other line.

The Japanese surgeon formed a numbed expression from where she stood. Though it would be inappropriate to intrude on the heated discussion, waiting was the same as eavesdropping, which was just as rude as the other option. She proceeded to pet the cat until her chance to speak with the visitor arises.

"Dr. Kimishima, we still don't know of a connection, it could be a red herring. And the threat tonight may be misleading, it happened before..." Navel fell back to the wall, as much as he was grateful that Alyssa was out of the picture, his boss continues to bring up well-supported debates with him. All he ended up doing was giving Naomi his assurance, "There's a good chance they'll leave something with all the patrols about..." It was at that point his eyes wandered off the card to check the time, and also identified Tomoe in the vicinity, who neared him with the spirited ball of fur trying to worm out of her grasp.

Humiliated that he allowed the conversation to be heard by a bystander, the assisting agent cut the quarrel short, "It's getting late, I'll find Alyssa and drop her off at your office." Snapping the cell shut, he cleared his throat to address the nearby doctor, "I'm supposing that you're looking for her, too..." He wished finding the child was less painful; he just withstood the mother's criticism and all he could come across was the girl's cherished pet. Yes, the cat was constantly vanishing on a day-to-day basis...but it was too soon to claim victory. "I only have half an hour left to find her..."

The endoscopic surgeon drew an optimistic smile as she guaranteed, "I found Chloe not too far from here...if we work together, we'll definitely find her in time." It wasn't much of a pep talk, but the teaming up sounded promising to the despondent man. With his nod, the encouraging woman bent over to release the cat, proposing, "I have a theory that perhaps she'll be able to hunt down our target faster than any of us..." She was about to let go until she heard large footsteps coming their way. Restricting the animal from a fast getaway, she raised it up and glanced down the corridor. "Dr. Freebird..!"

The well-kept green hair was unmistakeable, the strong torso and belt as well. The co-worker that called out quickly read the sadness on his face and questioned, "Is something the matter?" It was detected by the suit-wearing agent, despite not even being acquainted with this guy. The pair of tight fists and the hailing footfalls closing in on them wouldn't need his investigative skills to understand. He resisted the urge to ask about the missing girl's whereabouts, fearing that it would be discourteous when the foul mood was in plain sight.

Hank, realizing his actions unintentionally unsettling others, shook his head as he came up to the unlikely trio. "It's nothing... I think I should be asking you that instead." Relaxing the muscles in his hands and shoulders, he returned the question, "What's happening here?"

Though his mouth opened, Navel heard Tomoe rush ahead with the summary of their current challenge. "Well, I lost track of the time while playing hide-and-seek with Alyssa. So far I've located her pet..." While she gestured to the black furball in her hold, the agent beside her recalled the time Dr. Kimishima warned him about his word choice with describing household pets...the only real problem with 'domesticated animals' was the length of the phrase. He agreed with the rest of what Tomoe said: "I believe she decided to hide in one of the rooms here..."

Having only visited one of those rooms, the orthopedic surgeon didn't see himself as much help. "I haven't seen a girl from where I just came from... Are you planning to look into all the rooms?" It was that moment the other doctor shook her head and tried her plan again. This time Chloe leaped out of her arms when she neared the ground; it circled a little before strolling down the path behind the woman. The giant held his chin for a while before remarking, "This is an interesting idea...Are you sure it won't run away?"

Dr. Tachibana laughed in response, "I think it knows how difficult it'll be to hide here..." Besides the lack of camouflage, she could also compete with the fleeting feline, but she didn't mention it. Just as she reached Chloe, who slowed down to a turtle's pace, the PA turned on with Chief Patel's voice blaring though with the notice of an unforeseen lockdown. The three adults were all dumbfounded, their hunt becoming a part of the mayhem that rocked Resurgam.

"We have to find her...!" Alyssa's assigned chauffeur shouted, closing in on the others in the group. While the rows of ceiling lights shut off promptly, Tomoe rushed ahead to seize the animal that fled with the abrupt noise and darkness. Hank breathed heavily, unable to keep his internal outbursts of 'what's going on' and 'why is this happening' from sounding. The search party regrouped once the cat was apprehended.

Though the two doctors that mastered some of the medical fields here were highly concerned, the secret agent's own panic could never compare. They meant to collaborate on a new strategy, however the next set of words that exited the speakers alarmed them so much that they couldn't communicate without first processing the information. "Prisoner...the one from Cumberland?" Navel, the type that rarely let their nerves take control, grunted while taking back his collected composure.

"Y-yes..." The endoscopic surgeon stuttered back, lowering her gaze together with Dr. Freebird. She could never believe the specialist, having the same passion to save as everyone else, would run— the negotiations that secured him the deal here would be all in vain. With a rigid voice, she proclaimed, "This can't be right... there must be some misunderstanding!" Hank expressed the same emotions on his face, cold sweat running down his neck at the intensity that charged the air.

The gunshots could be interpreted either way. It doesn't matter how they could see it, one thing remained certain: the danger existed.

* * *

><p><strong>6:04 PM<strong> (17 Minutes Before Lockdown)

After killing a ton of time trying to meet up with his buddy, Gabriel Cunningham didn't find any relief in coming upon Maria Torres. The paramedic, who was kept from her ride home due to some chatterboxes throwing her off, was totally spooked when the diagnostician crept up behind her (this was a hundred-percent her opinion), provoking her aggressive side. The doctors squabbled a bit over the man's dignity and manners before actually moving on...but for the one marked as guilty by the snippy associate, they were light-years from getting anywhere. A meaningless clamor was made from a rally of 'calm downs' and 'what's your problems'.

Dr. Cunningham pretended there was an itch coming from the back of his head as this dispute became a hassle that got some nurses across the hallway cracking up. He was better off apologizing straightaway. "Look, I'm sorry about bursting your little bubble trying to get your attention back there. But I'm trying to catch up with Hank about tonight... mind telling me where he is?" Even if his language was somewhat offensive to the EMT's ears, she appeared to have cooled down while crossing her arms, more or less cranky. Meanwhile, Gabe motioned away the staff that were getting seats to their show, since it was canceled.

"Why are you asking me that?" Barking with a faded scowl, Maria gave the inquiry more consideration and lightened up just a tiny amount while pointing out, "Hey, you don't mean the dinner at some cafe with him, right?" She glanced at the other's elevated eyebrows and rewarded herself with an airy chuckle. To avoid ruining the recovery of her temper, the second person postponed his reaction until she added, "Knock yourselves out then."

"Hold on—" If he didn't grab her shoulder when she whirled around, there would have been only her dust left behind. "You didn't really answer... you got some clue of where he was going or not?" However, this way of retaining her was not the brightest move he ever made.

Feeling her privacy was invaded, Maria snapped with a jump, "I meant no— and didn't you get the message about touching people?" She usually didn't pop up at a tap or two, but the berating session already weakened her tolerance of this guy. Don't forget she almost spent 2 extra hours in this place, unlike the rest of the lucky members of the first response team. "Don't you two have cellphones?" Frankly she didn't know about the big guy.

Flipping around, Gabriel moaned in botheration, "Leave it... I'll find him." Somehow. Man, it really sucked to have used up so much energy dealing with just one person. Back to square one with the unending trek across the building.

"Wait..." Now the tangerine-jacketed paramedic was keeping the slightly irritable diagnostician from taking off; all she needed was one syllable to do so. "Isn't the kid supposed to be with you?" Although the messy-haired man could ask who she referred to, he picked up the devious mute's name in her rambling that followed. Oh boy, he could see Maria pouncing on him if he spoke about the substitute babysitter. He already got yelled at for being loud and intruding, he didn't want irresponsible on the list.

"That kid...she's running a few papers for me." He was about to pull out a cigarette, but was occupied with whipping up a passible excuse. Seeing the woman's astonished stare, he admitted, "Fine, fine, she's with the specialist..." Still staring; must have been something he said. "What?" He thought over what left his mouth and realized how he screwed up. "Oh...that." Should he take cover?

"What the hell have you been hiding from me?" Dr. Torres vehemently snarled. The first instance the incorrect pronoun was used, she assumed it was a slip-up, but that cover up just now made it evident. She had speculated the gender misconception not long ago; from what she heard, the orphan seemed documented as male. "How would you know that he's a girl and why is the kid with him?" She didn't stress the worry about the prisoner, though it was funny to imagine him playing nanny.

Gabriel's sticky situation just got nasty; he saw no escape from her fire...and divine intervention failed to happen too often to count. "You see..." Letting his voice drift off, he spotted the classic clock adjacent to the wall and mentally slapped himself—the minute hand was almost past the halfway point for the hour.

6:21 PM was the precise moment where Resurgam First Care took emergency security measures for the first time after the Rosalia Crisis. _"This is the Chief speaking— everyone stop what your doing, we're going into lockdown! This isn't a drill! I repeat, Resurgam's locking down! Everyone remain where they are, cancel any operations...Just stay safe!" _The pair that coincidentally stood right under the speakers exchanged blank gazes, both uneasy at their misfortune. It had only been a little over a week since the pandemic, and suddenly a lockdown happened. Plus, Esha didn't talk of an intruder, or any specifics for the matter, so naturally both doctors had their questions.

Another person wearing a EMT jacket brushed by the puzzled duo, who the crew leader, Maria, made out effortlessly. "Kevin..!" With her yell stopping the hurrying man dead in his tracks, she went on to ask the subordinate, "What are you doing here? I thought Chief let you off early like me." Using her experience, he was a serious, complicated individual who doesn't appreciate people who interposed in his work. "And do you have any idea what's going on?" According to that, it was okay to be asking him things, yet the urgent circumstance would be pushing the limit.

The short, black hair of the third person was flung in a direction when he glimpsed back callously at the twosome. His gloved fists never loosened while he answered, "I had an appointment with someone. You should seek shelter...it could be dangerous." Ignoring the woman's 'how about you,' he disappeared into the edifice, mostly blacked out with some faint exit lights lingering about.

"'An appointment?' That's... weird." The disregarded paramedic's comment raised suspicions in Dr. Cunningham's mind. He sensed she would try to pursue the informant just now, but the next voice on the PA did the preventing for him. Ian Holden's brief statements put her in a daze and greatly increased the Master of Deduction's skepticism.

"There's gotta be a mistake!" "I'm not buying it." Each uttered out in strong disbelief, later meeting their own revelation: Gabriel immediately pictured the specialist with the teenage girl. If the surgeon was truly brilliant, he would know better than to get the orphan involved...of course, if he wasn't thinking of taking any lives. At any rate, he anticipated the mute to be thrown in the mess someway or another.

Dr. Torres' vision turned hazy as she, already fazed, witnessed familiar dark fractals materialize into a silhouette. For the third time in a row this week, she encountered Rosalia's troubled spirit; the woman wondered if she would need to make another heroic dive, but it was doubtful in a middle of a building. "What's the message now, huh?"

_"Help them..."  
><em>  
>The ghostly figure evanesced just as the plea was repeated. The co-worker that soon reentered Maria's sight pulled on his collar and bumbled out, "That wasn't what I thought it was, right?" Still to this day, he honestly was still shaky about the whole 'hearing and seeing the dead' thing. Ineffective in weakening the confliction on her face, he bluntly asked, "What was it?" He'll have to put aside the fact that he was calling her while she was zoning out.<p>

The disarrayed paramedic, holding a heart-wrenching presentment, spaced out a while longer. The drive to chase down the other EMT emerged again when she whimpered to the one accompanying her, "I... got something to do..." Sick of her elusive attitude, Gabriel automatically kept her from sprinting away. He understood how staggering the news was, but that wasn't an excuse to shoot off— considering how most people would try to steer clear of gunshots, which went off just now right where the other guy was headed to. The woman peacefully accepted the yank; she could've been a goner right after Kevin.

Following their instincts to survive, the two violently accelerated for the opposite direction. "Your friend probably got to someplace safe already. Now we gotta run..." Dr. Cunningham grumbled dreadfully as the other exclaimed to the gunfight behind them. While he was planning to backtrack to his office, the diagnostician regretted taking along the dragging lab coat and burdensome stethoscope. Of course, running into hell in such a hurry was part of Maria's job description, so the only slack she had was the stress shrouding her head.

"What the heck is the kid thinking...?"

* * *

><p><strong>6:27 PM<strong>

It was as if their collisions happened systematically.

Tomoe, with Hank and Little Guy not far after her, let Chloe slip out of her hands on accident during the frantic search for Alyssa Breslin. The trio drew near the cat while coming to a crossroads in the halls; this was the second floor.

Chloe sauntered to the right— if it had turned to the left, they could have cornered the pet since that dead-end had only the elevators and staircase, both blocked off with closed doors. It didn't head straight since there were strangers standing there. "Dr. Cunningham... Dr. Torres!" Dr. Tachibana paused in her hall with the two men beside her as she recognized the pair of doctors aloud under the dim red lights.

Maria and Gabriel, both amazed to come upon so many acquaintances, ceased their mad dash. Standing across from the other group, they could observe the black furball on the loose walk into the embrace of a child shouting out its name— it was a young girl with short brown hair and emerald eyes who wore a traditional, brown skirt with a cream-colored top. "Alyssa!" "Mr. Breslin..." Just as the endoscopic surgeon and the secret agent called out to her, Dr. Freebird noted the startled boy with crutches that hopped to the adolescent's side.

"Why are you out of..."

An explosive slamming of a door interrupted Hank's question to the twelve year-old. Gary, along with the 6 others divided amongst the rayless hallways of the intersection, distinguished two new figures that soared out from the stairwell. "Erhard!" The kid with the cumbersome cast on his leg was first, and only, to excitedly name the teenager with the inscrutable cloak, which he seemed to have overlooked. Faintly comprehending why the other person was with the fellow orphan, he spoke with a frown, "Isn't that the doctor from earlier? Why is he with..."

The duo to the left of the cautious mute and disconcerted prisoner yelled out 'kid' in sync, the first responder's voice producing a bellow compared to the shout of the man with tousled, green hair. Mr. Navel mouthed something as well, but the volume of the others expressing their shock was too high for him to be heard. The two children with the cat may not see it, but all the other adults were beginning to take extreme possibilities in account with spotting the renegade teen not just with the fugitive, but leading him— now that they were surrounded, no one could predict what lengths the fugitives would go to to break out...

'Erhard Muller' gave Gary an empty glimpse while pacing a few steps back, uncertain which path would be the wisest to take with witnesses as obstacles. CR-SO1, hardly discerning how the imitator had locked her hand with his, wished he could explain himself, but as he sullenly gazed to Maria, Tomoe, and his former associates, he realized that the respect and trust they had put on him was already under serious evaluation. Under dismal circumstances, the impasse between the various groups remained; Erhard thought about leaving from where they came, but when she glanced back, the methodical retreat was cast aside.

"What the-? You said the signals were coming from the other side of the building!" Esha Patel, who was safely behind Ian Holden and one other officer, blurted out as she exited the elevator behind them. She was needed to reach the room with the photography equipment that monitored the hospital, therefore the assembly of staff, bystanders, and the convict himself mortified her. "What's going on here?" Her voice cracked at the end, when the detective and his assistant, who was assigned to utilize the cameras, both raised their firearms with their two hands.

"You led him to this?" Ian growled out in confusion, a signal to the other not to fire, despite the orphan revealing her gun the same time they had flashed their weapons. The caretaker of the prisoner bitterly clenched his teeth, his shades sagging down his face by a fraction. He had the impulse to command backups to arrive, however he got caught up in identifying the accomplice: the resistance strangely had similar features to the specialist...The thin left arm that pointed a pistol at him never twitched. The crimson pair of eyes that never broke from his direction appeared lifeless rather than murderous. All those details he picked up on complicated his choice of action. "Who are you...?"

The adults that stood around the deadlock were all momentarily speechless. They took that question, which CR-SO1 had harbored from the very start, and scrutinized it— until one of the two unaware children chose to physically intervene. "I did it! I started the fire! It wasn't Erhard or any of the other orphans, so leave him alone..!" Gary, with one crutch to balance himself and the other thrown aside, hobbled between the cocked guns recklessly.

The spectators ordered the kid to move away, but couldn't move at the horrifying round of gunshots echoing from the other half of the building— which now made little sense. The boy flinched as he stood in the deadliest position of the standoff. Out of the many hospital personnel that related the child's outcry to the unsolved arson, only a handful were able to fully doubt his confession. Alyssa, cradling Chloe in her arms, was the one outlier that decided to speak up. She joined her new 'friend' at point blank, ignoring what Little Guy warned, and freed her cat to extend her arms out. Doing what Gary would've done, she defended not only the mute, but the boy as well, "He didn't do it either... nobody here is guilty! Put away the guns before you hurt someone!"

It was an act of childish bravery only innocents could make, but it served motivation enough for 'Erhard,' whose composure was rocked, to lower down her guard, the gun. When Ian and the lieutenant were about to copy the example, Secret Agent Navel's fierce words erased the negotiation efforts.

"Hold it...are you 'Raven?'" His focus was dead set on prominent the black cloak.

Although there were others who wanted to voice their puzzlement, the boy cut in ahead of all of them. "Quit asking stuff already, Erhard can't talk..." He, having done this a million times before, looked back for some approval, but only saw closed eyes from the accused. The blonde man backed off with some suspicions, trying to assure himself it was all just a coincidence as Alyssa's legs shuddered in the tension.

Detective Holden, his weapon still raised, summarized the source of his frustration by uttering to the protective patient, "How the hell do you know the prisoner's name?" He didn't give the staff nearby the chance to swallow the fact and pressed on with what the agent had tried earlier. With the teenager's vermillion gaze on him again, he repeated, "And...are you really 'Raven?'"

"Didn't you hear what I just—"

"No."

* * *

><p>AHAHA! Take THAT for a cliff! :D<br>Alicia (In the corner): ^^;

Okay... I'll be honest and admit that I was at a loss for words in this chappy... and that's because I'm going to need all that description to be stocked up for the next chapter, which may turn out to be shorter...  
>And that chapter, there'll be a review of all the pieces of the puzzle so far with a few more surprises :p So... since I'll probably delay it a ton, please nag at me about it in a review or something...<br>As for what you've just read...tell me your thoughts! I love hearing predictions o3o (I always see the stuff as obvious but...)


	11. The Story So Far

(What I wrote before posting chapter 8):

_I know it's been MONTHS since my last update. And if you were reading this, I'm going to help out by giving a little summary or two of what happened previously, assuming that a lot of you already forgot the story._

_Though, I'm an author that likes making the smallest hints, so if you're the type of reader that likes to make predictions and get ahead of the game, then feel free to go back and skim a little, in the meantime, I shall write a 'calendar-like' summary of the events included so far. By the way, I made have made huge mistakes when it comes to dates...Sorry...^^; So...I guess the weekdays I assign the chapters too aren't going to be too useful._

_Now if you remember the story or just started, kudos, so you probably don't need to read the summary._

(Currently:)

Now... since the first half is finished, time to update this a bit to keep track of everything so far- and in case readers forget if I take too long :p

* * *

><p><strong>_ONE_ Beginning<strong>

Unknown Time, Somewhere In Downtown Portland:

-A mysterious meeting occurs in the roughest place of the town, resembling something similar to organized crime?

Monday, the week after the Rosalia Outbreak:

-Naomi refuses a top-secret case and continues her new life with Alyssa working on smaller cases; Wayne has no argument.

-CR-SO1 is released from prison on an agreement to work at Resurgam for one year, completing as many operations as he can to decrease his sentence.

-Maria Torres arrives to an orphanage fire and saves two kids, one unconscious and the other a 'hero.'

-CR-SO1 arrives to Resurgam to be dragged into a current rebellion started by the orphanage survivors. The kid that pushed him over somehow has his name.

**_TWO_ Rebellion**

Same Day (Monday):

-Meet Erhard and Gary. The first being accused of starting the fire. The uprising was nothing more than unnecessary trouble.

-Tomoe shows CR-SO1 his room. Nothing special other than the fact that CR can earn cash... Tomoe puts really high hopes in that opportunity.

Tuesday:

-Esha shows up late to the conference and reports that a few kids are staying behind. Maria volunteers to take some custody of 'Erhard' during his stay, who she soon discovers is mute. Gabe is told to check on Gary's condition.

-Gabe passes by CR's office, but Gary and 'Erhard' were stowing away there. Gary was hiding from Gabe, supposedly.

**_THREE_ Labor**

Wednesday:

-Maria crashes into 'Erhard's to start him off on volunteer work. They attempt to clean the backroom but end up going to a scene of an unexplained but large car accident (Carson Incident).

-There were some bullying problems with the team before Maria notices Rosalia. 'Erhard' managed to save a kid from getting killed...again.

-Gabe sends 'Erhard' off to the lounge. He later learns that Tillman is involved in the presidential elections, but was cut off to deal with 'Erhard' stealing food from the lounge.

-Argument with Esha was handled without any scars. Gabe sends 'Erhard' to CR, and has news to tell the prisoner.

**_FOUR_ Enigma**

Same day (Wednesday):

-Maria goes to a mechanic and hears a conversation about Jet screwing up at his job. She also heard about his bad knee and advises him about visiting Resurgam.

-Naomi hears about the Carson Incident. Wayne tells her it's federal business and she leaves it alone.

-In the OR, 'Erhard' recalls being found out as female and her flying kick. She later supplies CR-SO1 with the stabilizer he needs to complete the operation.

-'Erhard' takes CR-SO1 to lunch. CR grows more doubtful of the girl's identity; he was unable to take her to the Mall next-door.

-Gabe fails to find Gary yet again. He hears about Esha talking to a former Caduceus member who wants to work in a hospital again.

**_FIVE_ Stories**

Thursday:

-Maria figures 'Erhard' didn't get the right food and personally takes 'him' out to the mall to eat breakfast. She tells 'him' of her history as an orphan and informs 'him' that CR is a prisoner.

-'Erhard' runs out of the old ward during a meeting with new paramedics. Maria is confronted by Kevin about this event. Rosalia sends another message.

-CR leaves a concerned Tomoe behind and finds 'Erhard' secluded in a corner. He leaves her alone, but was eventually followed.

-Gabe 'assigns' CR to take care of 'Erhard,' who later comes in. Gabe says he's still looking for Gary. CR later learns that 'Erhard' became an orphan at perhaps through the Cumberland Incident, since the times match up. 'Erhard' later tests her trust of the surgeon with the window.

**_SIX_ Runaway**

Same day (Thursday):

-'Erhard' finds Gary wandering the halls.

-Maria aids CR in an operation, showing concern for her apprentice.

-'Erhard' and Gary successfully avoids Gabe and Hank, despite the fact Gary has an injured leg. 'Erhard' goes to CR's office to grab lunch, but Tomoe gets in the way by reporting the discovery of Gary.

-'Erhard' ran out and into Gabe, after a small fight Gabe tells about Gary's operation.

-Naomi is forced to start the top-secret case regarding a impossible-to-catch thief with the alias "Raven."

**_SEVEN_ Exploration**

Friday:

-Maria hears about the issue with the two orphans from Tomoe and tries to confront 'Erhard.' She ends up just finding an empty roll of gauze and running into Jet, who she told to come tomorrow since he had no reservation.

-CR-SO1 finds 'Erhard' frustrated. He informed her of the transmitter and she surprisingly managed to unlock it.

-CR-SO1 was lead to the Mall, and witnessed a bunch of ruffians go by 'Erhard.' He took the step accidentally and was taken away for dinner...

-While CR was forced to browse, 'Erhard' ran into the punks again and saw them cornering a few kids. The situation was handled with some littering and a wild goose chase.

-The rescued kids recognized 'Erhard,' but weren't familiar with the attitude.

**_ EIGHT _ Tribulation**

Same Day (Friday):

-Naomi, now working with a dead body discovered not long ago, finds herself stuck in the mystery. The only progress is her belief that 'Raven' is a group rather than just one person.

-'Erhard' ran out on Maria again, Kevin shows disappointment in her for no addressing the problem, which Maria is uncertain of.

-Jet meets Gabriel, the doctor Maria has recommended. Other than some conversational hiccups, Gabriel didn't do much for the strange knee pains. Jet later suggests Gabe to the cafe he works at to attend one of his performances... as thanks.

-Esha talks to Gabe about hiring another diagnostician, Gabe is indifferent with the decision, and notices the Chief is a ton more clumsier.

-Hank meets up with Claire at the mall for another shopping trip. Claire asks about Hank's most recent patient (Gary) before they encounter Elise, Claire's 'rival' chef who does rather charitable work while owning an orphanage on the borders of Portland. Kevin, who was with Elise, told Hank that he was the first to arrive to the Carson Incident. Claire regrets that she didn't ask more...

**_ NINE _ Altercation**

Saturday:

-Ian storms into the hospital with other officials... because the contract with the prisoner had supposedly been broken.

3 Hours Before:

-Gabriel and Nurse Emma becomes the laughingstock of the visitor, Jet. Jet tells Gabe that Sunday would be a better time since he has a family emergency to attend to that day. Gabriel was fine with that, but now has to track down Hank.

-Gary, stuck in his cast and in his room, meets Alyssa, who is playing hide-and-seek with Tomoe and also Chloe... Little Guy passes by, but was sent off with a phone call. Alyssa talks a little about Naomi's current case before someone else shows up...

-(A little before:) Hank leaves the OR and thanks Maria for supporting him, he also talks about his little night out with Gabe before heading to Gary's room.

-Gary and Hank start out peaceful with talking about the orphanage arson, but later create tension when Gary refuses to explain his running off. Alyssa eavesdrops from the bottom of the bed.

-After Hank leaves, Gary and Alyssa start to move out of the room, just as Esha declared the lockdown and Ian announced the termination... there were also gunshots.

**_TEN _Conspiracy**

Same day (Saturday), though a little back in time...

-CR-SO1 and 'Erhard' argue out another trip away from the tracker, but as they approached the orphan's room, the announcements were made. 'Erhard' reveals a gun after the prisoner reads the mysterious notecard that was left in the strange cloak the girl had...

-Tomoe catches Chloe and meets up with Little Guy, who was talking to Naomi about Raven... They team up and later meet Hank. They had a plan to follow the cat, but then the PA turned on.

-Gabriel and Maria seemed to come to the worst point their quarrel, when Gabe failed to keep his little secret about 'Erhard'... just as Esha brought Resurgam to lockdown mode. They notice Kevin, who runs by without answering much. Ian later comes up on the PA, and Maria sees Rosalia once more. They run in the opposite direction of the gunshots, despite Kevin having went that way earlier.

-Everyone meets up just as 'Erhard' and CR-SO1 were about to run through. Ian and Esha appear, both surprised to see everyone. Ian and 'Erhard' point their guns at each other, forcing Gary and Alyssa to intervene, both assuming that this was for the orphanage arson. Little Guy and Ian interrogate 'Erhard'...eventually answered.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N:**  
>It's...been awhile.<br>How... have you been? ^^;

Well, your reward is the longest chappy yet, almost 8000 words! (and stuff on DA as well~)  
>And... you might actually... enjoy this one :p<p>

It'd be nice to refresh a little info, I didn't get to review all the stuff, (the summary page is helpful) since that'd be a stretch for my vocab, time, and endurance. *was relying on ice cream on this one*

Dumping the excuses of HS and life aside... have fun~ (and there may be the occasional sneaky typo... *sigh* Those things... snaking in there...)

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><p><strong>11_The_Extrication_<strong>

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><p>The denial was nothing more than a murmur. The one, ordinary syllable exited so swiftly that nobody could review the voice's properties— they wouldn't even need to.<p>

The group, which formed a jumble in the most unlikely of places, had already received samples from each other, whether in the form of an unnecessary outburst or a repeated inquiry. The answerer's tone was brand-new to the collection... not raspy nor striking, the word had exited from a speaker entirely unaffected by the hysteria.

"I'm not." The 'Erhard Muller' whose identity has just been disconfirmed by a bewildered detective restated without any hint of arrogance or hesitation. She callously readjusted her gun to match Ian's as Gary sluggishly flipped around in huge discouragement. The boy suspected contempt from her, and soon was partaking in demonstrating his heartbroken state with Alyssa by wincing. A similar pain had shot up his leg as his eyes changed to a sickly brown color. He had been with this teenager for the longest, yet in the very end, all that he learned turned out to be worth absolutely nothing.

Just watching the kid's assertive attitude being overwhelmed by three, simple words and a dark gaze shattered the already damaged composures of those who assumed the two orphans were childhood friends. If the twelve-year old's experience wound up fruitless, then the information they were given was surely flawed. Holding her ground next to Gary, a supportive Alyssa wanted to extend some sympathy, but with themselves standing between two firearms for an increasingly lost cause, it was impossible to move an inch.

The fall of grace hit Dr. Torres the worst. "I can't believe this, you—" She was compelled to commence a series of vicious questions towards her so-called apprentice...until a bump in her throat and a gut feeling Gabe would restrain her yet again inhibited her from barking at the alleged mute. The riled up woman could only whip her head to the diagnostician with a snarl though her clenched teeth. She sensed the heat from her palms when opening her fists; the seething rage within her being replaced with sheer frustration and desperation.

Dr. Cunningham, readily ignoring the possibility of getting pounded by the tigress, dropped the notion in which he saw the whole event as ironic. Though he came upon the imitator's real gender by pure chance, he didn't think the girl was also faking the disability— as for the outcome right here and now, the 'Master of Deduction' was as oblivious as the others. Reading the expressions of the adults circling the two pairs, the baffled doctor mumbled in the back of his mind, 'How can we all be this damn clueless?!' Intuition was telling him that the girl wasn't going through a rebellious phase...and it clearly wasn't her ugly temper either.

They weren't only staring at a train-wreck, they were buried in one. The straight-faced Gabriel wondered what destiny had to do with running into Hank at the worst of times: The fretful giant was outright confounded by it all. This big guy may have had little attachment to the mischievous squirt, however he was all caught up in the mess her accomplice made. The poor runt with the cast was probably aching inside and out now with all the action going down. Similar downcast thoughts entered Dr. Freebird's head.

Despite the heavy odds, Tomoe Tachibana still clung onto a shred of optimism. She purposely overlooked the fabricated profile and instead consoled herself with the fact the specialist, who digested the surprises so far with lost eyes, wasn't directly at gunpoint. To be exact, the misconceptions about 'Erhard' swayed popular opinion into thinking the prisoner was leaving against his will. Truth be told, if one looked beside the mysterious cloak, one would see the surgeon's fingers were interlocked with the teen's.

It wasn't after his copycat appeared to disown the bizarre alias did CR-SO1 acknowledge that the 'stranger's' hand had slipped down from his wrist long ago. The grip became a forceful squeeze when she risked getting killed on the spot by taking the first step away from the scene...

"Wait—!" Secret Agent Navel snapped when he boldly pushed past the endoscopic and orthopedic surgeons to confront his prime suspect. However, he only succeeded in getting the younger pair of kids to turn his way. Alyssa, with the accusations linking her to Naomi's bedtime stories, sent the blonde man a terrified glance and slipped back to Gary's side. Someone else elaborated off what what Little Guy said as he got distracted.

"You think we're going to believe that?" Ian rumbled, gradually shifting his gun to the direction of the specialist, then back. "Enough of the games, hand him over." He sternly commanded as the second officer automatically requested backup, strangely with no reply on the comms. Detective Holden hadn't noticed; he was processing the earlier words that were a potential lie. This pistol-wielding orphan had the disguise of being mute, why bother to defend when staying quiet was easier? And wouldn't it be more misleading to promptly ask back 'what are you talking about?'

With the ulterior motive far from the realm of guesses, the aged man hopelessly returned to his misplaced objective. The reticent girl recognized the pause from him as hesitation and naturally took advantage of it to mobilize. The last person she'd expect to obstruct her was the fellow orphan, who pinned her in place by snatching onto a raveled end of the cloak. He croaked at first, but the message was fathomable, "At least...you know who started the fire, right?" Maybe he didn't really get the situation, but here was his last shot to say something to the one he treated as an older brother.

'Erhard,' not anticipating to hear him bring up the arson yet again, offered the tiniest nod in response. It could've been seen as a confession with her melancholic frown, however Gary didn't even consider it. He relied on faith as he finished, "Promise me you'll find that guy... now run!"

The moment he let go, Ian and Navel both shouted the opposite order in vain. The ticket to leave was taken without regret; the somewhat-identical fugitives charged for the hall across from their pursuers. CR-SO1, aware that his freedom would never be the same, glimpsed back to watch his assigned caretaker greatly lower his aim in dismay. The convict instantaneously understood why he didn't gun them down: because the official had already organized forces outside to capture them.

So why not give up, why continue running when escape was utterly futile? He didn't have the opportunity to come up with any logical reasons— or more like, he had none.

Reactions varied among those left behind. The man bearing the duty to prevent the bio-terrorist from breaking out hastily dispatched the assistant with the Chief Surgeon to the original destination, the surveillance room. "Figure out what the hell was happening on the other side from the video and have helicopters ready on the south garage. Make sure backups are looking on the north one, too, take anyone suspicious into custody." He heard 'yes sir' as the answer from the subordinate before continuing, "If the one behind it was who the agent here thought it was... then..."

"So the threat tonight was a distraction? But the target was never a—" Little Guy chimed in as his cellphone buzzed from his right pocket. The caller ID labeled none other than the medical examiner, yet when he first talked on the line, he still included the customary 'Dr. Kimishima.' About right now was when he recalled his errand of picking up Alyssa, the child preoccupied with fetching Gary's other crutch and getting a hold of Chloe.

Half of the bystanders watched the second officer frantically issued instructions while tagging behind Esha, bolting down the hall where Tomoe and her group originated from. The other half were divided in who to be looking to for answers, though it was apparent that nobody had even the roughest explanation for any aspect of the frenzy. The attention mainly went to the blue-suited adult not long later, when he let loose a feeble 'what' with a rattled confidence. He then softly muttered 'alright' before clapping the cell closed.

Ian raised the arch of his shades as calmly as he could before catching the uncommunicative agent casting his eyes away from Mrs. Breslin and the remaining staff. He grunted irritatedly, "Mind sharing what the doctor said?" They wouldn't be able to keep the case topic a secret for much longer anyways, thus he didn't care if the eyewitnesses gained confidential data— it's not that they had a lot to spill.

"Dr. Kimishima is coming herself... and..." It was angering and counter-productive to note the forensic expert's arrival first, but Navel was going in order. "We were wrong. 'Raven' just struck as written in the threat. That means—" As expected from listeners who aren't up to date with the evidence, there were multiple interruptions.

"Who the hell is 'Raven?!'" "What do you mean by 'struck?'" "Did you just say there was a 'threat?'" A flustered Maria, a nervous Tomoe, and a Gabriel that was tired of living up to his title all sounded at once. Gary and Hank, mimicking their emotions, doubled up on the ladies' words while the fiery paramedic jerked forward to make their demands clear as day. The diagnostician, having pride in his unique question, was greatly aggravated when Dr. Tachibana added, "When you mentioned 'threat,' you don't happen to mean what you said earlier on the phone, correct?"

Before Alyssa could explain what she knew, Little Guy came to a weak sigh, directly when Holden cursed and wrapped up what he had disclosed, "So you're saying the forces that went after the decoy on the north side...there aren't going to be any more coming to this side with the robbery going on? Damn!" This was second time he had overestimated the opposition at Resurgam, the first incident being the wild helicopter chase fooling him not too long back. Ian's thick umber coat flapped in the air as he darted down the path ahead. Being the only one in the area capable of ending the charade, there was no point in wasting energy to reprimand the others for not notifying him earlier.

Meanwhile, the hall lights that were shut off during the lockdown began to flicker back on section by section. The portion where Dr. Torres and Dr. Cunningham stood at was the last to brighten, however the two already took off after the careless official (actually, Gabe was chasing Maria to stop her, and then the EMT was hunting down four-eyes).

The two staff members soon to trail after them developed eerie sentiments about the sudden malfunction in the building's lighting. The private investigator, seeming to pay no heed to the issue, directed Alyssa to wait for her mother before speeding off. Literally speaking, the daughter and her cat must stay put with the temporary resident here, who was moping with the broken leg as his handicap.

Although they were on a deserted floor, with adequate luminance, they weren't necessarily scared. Gary, having traversed this complex with terrible luck, still scoffed at the idea of sticking around. Unfortunately, this wasn't exactly the best time for an exploration, so back to standing in the middle of nowhere...Oh, do take note that the 'nowhere' had extremely colorful wallpaper not suited to his tastes. He commenced the complaints soon after.

"Hey, you know what the grown-ups meant when they said 'Raven,' right?"

The boy didn't pivot around in his condition, but obnoxiously had a pinky in his ear as he moaned, "I didn't forget what you said earlier, but it makes no sense." So what if he was just twelve, that doesn't mean he was dumb, though he himself thought he did well in acting it. "I just know that thief's not him, but why would they listen to me? So I kept going about the fire..." And his efforts did manage to delay the cops— too bad he couldn't pat himself on the back for that one.

Ms. Breslin rushed to come face to face with him. She chirped with Chloe almost in his face, "But he had a gun and a black cape...and could talk, too! How can you still trust him?" Her memory never grew fuzzy: this adolescent had three long years with the shady figure. Maybe this was testing the friendship she already was mindful of.

"Well..." Mr. Forester tilted his head in exhaustion; it would be puerile to declare 'it doesn't matter' when both of them had placed their lives on the line. Therefore he countered, "It's like me asking you 'why did you help?' I mean, come on, we just met today!" He tapped the end of one of his crutches on the tiled ground, expressing discombobulation; his blushed cheeks did a better job of that.

His temper steamed a bit when the benefactor hummed and concluded with a dainty smile, "I guess I did it... because we're friends, silly!" Defeated by her mirthful ways, the boy grieved over the elapsed time and rockily rotated himself to get another peek at the fugitive's getaway route. Hugging her cat more cautiously, the girl imitated him and said circumspectly, "I think they will make it..."

"They have to." The other grumbled; a bit presumptuous of him, but no harm came with wishful thinking, even if it was against the police. Thunder rolled in shortly, almost like nature begged to differ. "I think it's raining..." Unseasonable as it was, the storm didn't limit the electrical output of the edifice; it only hindered the ability of the other pair in slipping out fast enough.

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><p>The addition of a south lot was a crucial part in the updates to Resurgam's structure, and news the surgeon didn't pester himself with. Its installation, though considerably smaller than the sister garage, was to provide a more convenient parking area for the expanding staff and the first response team— and to reserve the former lot for the multiplying number of patients and visitors.<p>

On the south side, there were three partially-vacant layers compared to the four ever-changing stories of the other. Both were pelted by bullets of water on their uppermost floor. But on the center floor of the faculty garage, the weather wasn't influencing the pursuit. The stone railings didn't secure every gap there was; the apertures were large enough for a smaller car or what the leader of the escapees hopped on after process of elimination, a general-sized motorcycle with a mighty and rowdyish design— a positive misfit for her.

The sudden deluge tricked the prisoner into portraying himself drenched and dripping wet. Perhaps it was due to his depressing prospect of being cornered and shipped back to prison. However, several derailing factors led him to assume... that as impossible as it may sound, he can make it out. Don't get him wrong, he never dreamt of this resort; he was perfectly compliant with the one-year deal. He recklessly blew that chance when he first let the troublemaker meddle with the tracker yesterday.

As for what made him see escaping a reality: "Where is..."

The gray skies were filled with nothing but rainclouds pouring away. Waves of hammering droplets were all he could hear— the militant choppers and swarms of cops were nowhere in sight. They couldn't have been late, so...missing? That was unacceptable. "How are they not here?" He didn't get a response from the one who relinquished her hold on him; instead he heard a roar from the ignition of the engine. That was from the second factor.

The key was already inserted when they reached the selected vehicle, that was why it qualified. The copper ring of keys was either left by a neglectful driver, or was somehow prepared...just like the alarming note. All the clues that fogged his mind were set aside when he realized the identity thief extending her hand out to him. While he was musing, she had positioned the motorbike to face a runway headed straight off the side of the concrete into the streets, now barraged by lesser amounts of rain.

He could comment on how dangerous the plan was, but then the last factor crossed his mind. He was reminded of it when Holden appeared, clutching a pistol about five meters behind him. The despondent man preserved a staid stance with slanted eyebrows as he said, "Don't even think about it." His common hoarse, stern tone was present even with all the drawbacks. Nobody else came to seal them off from leaving; justice wouldn't prevail, and he knew it.

The third indication was candidly the first. Few minutes back, the girl, equipped with nothing but an unused weapon and the purposeless cloak, fluidly opened the exit to this location. It doesn't require eight years in jail to understand the power of the term 'lockdown.' Both Ian and the real Erhard knew the squall wasn't the underlying cause of the system's dysfunction.

Those that advanced to the site behind the solitary detective refrained from approaching. From the doorway, none dared to mutter a thing except for the paramedic, "Don't shoot them!" Out of five adults, it was infuriating to be the only one voicing her opinion. The final judgement came to the shoulders of the chief running the operation, and that she refused to accept.

_Was this what Rosalia wanted when she made her plea? For her big brother to be running from federals for the rest of his life?_

The co-workers silently went to the corner of their eyes for a view of Maria being devastated by her own conscience, some ultimately looking to the sullen weather for comfort. Trapped in cold air, the woman tenaciously drew the courage to get nearer to the scene. The breath she intended for another bellow was cut off when something about the apprehensive teenager diverted her focus. "Hey! That's—"

The cluster speculating the scene were internally thrown over the edge when Chief Patel and the second officer revealed their presence... with a cruelly fired, 'inaccurate' warning shot. The pellet scathed the cement beside the license plate of the motorcycle, startling the indecisive specialist into losing his balance. Those farther off instinctively shouted cries of disbelief, assuming that he had taken the hit as he stumbled backwards. In the center, the caretaker was blinded by his outrage as a subordinate had overturned his authority. "Dammit!"

In that split-second, the girl's empty hand, which was stalled until now, lunged for the collar of the man's shirt as the rest of her body swerved the vehicle to break his fall. She inclined on impulse as the disoriented man landed on the remainder of the seat. Without giving him a moment to reposition or grip onto anything, the gas pedal was pressed down to the max. A sense of vulnerability and weightlessness then washed over him.

A tire screech and a howl from the machine attacked the ears of the observers in that mere instant. As many charged onward to grab a final glimpse from the ledge, the unidentified driver's stolen bike impacted and left a curved, black mark on the pavement. Ian, earliest to reach gap that was used, lacked the motivation to discharge any bullets when facing the obstinate resolve of the stranger. His stubborn arms dropped from the angle in which he pointed his revolver when he thought the expression was oddly reminiscent of the surgeon's.

"Who is this kid..." The bested detective whimpered in a cross manner while the followers peered below, astonished how the stunt ended in survival. The assistant, who set off the chain of events when he first pulled the trigger, resisted the urge to fire again, hopelessly watching the 'innocent' mass-murder reluctantly rotate himself and flee into the avenue. Gone.

"Was that... even legal?" Right after Gabriel, words and movement erupted with mixed emotions from the rest of the doctors as their former associate and 'volunteer' disappeared beyond the thick mist. The gloomy drizzle during the standstill soon intensified to a summertime tempest, driving the group away from the borders of the lot.

Dr. Cunningham, with his uncanny skills in deduction, was still not too pleased with himself. He bumped past Dr. Torres, rarely seen in such deep reflection, before asking the manager, "So why the nice visit? Thought you and the other guy went to peek at the cameras." Trying to keep his cool, he stuck his bored hands into the pockets of his tan pants.

"And I didn't give clearance to shoot then." Holden scolded dryly, the delirium from this humiliating failure sinking in. Putting up no dispute with the men, Esha strenuously folded her arms and gestured the diagnostician to send his complaints to the second outsider with FBI badge. In her opinion, her share of the havoc would be coming with filing all the paperwork and letters to everyone in the hospital and... the icky part, dealing with the pesky media. She'd also have to track down a replacement surgeon to take on the kid's appointments.

As for the errand Ian entrusted the deputy with, the man postponed his response because of the disrespect he acknowledged from overturning the detective's leadership once. To save himself from being regarded as a capricious rookie, he shook off the shame and almost reiterated what he told the Chief earlier, "Sir, the cameras were disabled an hour earlier, so there wasn't any feed to recover. When I tried to reactivate them, the power in the room shut off completely and the building—"

"Lit up with the locks opened." Holden tersely finished for him, since the facility's release of the lock-down command contributed to his downfall. Circled by many who pressed him for information and distant cars, he creased his forehead as he realized aloud, "Dammit, so it was him after all..." He reached for the walkie-talkie in his pocket, but lost interest when taking into account how it hasn't buzzed even once starting from when he left the elevators.

Those drowning him in their questions relaxed when Esha Patel announced a meeting in the conference room— the participation of Ian being mandatory, naturally. The manager didn't include Agent Navel, since Dr. Kimishima's visit would force him to linger anyways. Dr. Freebird and Tachibana were most docile with the arrangement and thus the earliest to return indoors; the diagnostician of the group was more antsy about Lady Spitfire's abnormal silence, but steadily strode along. The technical assistant was told to round up the police on the opposite side by the detective, who saw some benefits in hearing the medical examiner for any breakthroughs with the case.

The hospital's coordinator, renown for her high cooperative spirit and sometimes her fearlessness, lacked the supportive words for the unenergized EMT crew manager. When Little Guy departed for the inner premises, the high-strung woman set her hand on her waist, shifting her weight to one side in her indecisiveness to comfort the morose paramedic. With puckered lips and an intent glint from her hazel eyes, Esha stated, "Maria, there's nothing we can do about it now. We just have to... move on, you know?"

"Oh...It's you, Chief." The formalities still existed as the doctor whirled around in surprise. She figured it would be inane of her to object with what transpired, so she sighed, "Yeah, but I can't help but wonder if... we did the right thing." Before the other could speak in return, Dr. Torres glanced back to the dismal shower and assured, "You go ahead, I'll be there in a sec...Just need a breather." Rarely she let such unsightly clouds help her chill out, but the Chief was convinced enough to dismiss herself soundlessly.

One, isolated doubt was consuming her rather than bugging her. She wasn't fretting over the specialist, nor the mysterious doppelgänger, but her own actions. "Was that really the right thing for me to do...?" Her voice died down just when a brutally-loud thunderclap and sudden gale-force winds threatened her back into the main building, where she may soon learn to regret her involvement in the 'kidnapping.'

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><p>It didn't matter how far or how fast they went, they were both soaked through. Luckily, the driver wasn't zipping into mud puddles, so none of their clothes had been soiled. Still, the passenger knew all too well that his semi-transparent dress shirt was minimal protection against the blasting currents— which were from the combination of this foul weather and the motorcycle's speed...an gut-wrenching experience almost equivalent to his years in the icebox.<p>

Wishing they had helmets, CR-SO1 was stuck looking off at the right side in the course of it all. Basing off of the fact he could barely view the partly-flooded road ahead of them, much less the blurred sidewalks, he accepted that even his best conjecture of where they were headed to...would be off. As soon as the downpour became a mild sprinkle, she may decelerate, and he would have his chance to mutter something without his words being blown away.

Scratch that. There were too many stray questions to ask, and no promise she'd even reply. Her slightly irritating, buoyant mood that might have welcomed those sort of interactions had been abandoned a long while ago. And even so, it was humiliating to not have an idea of how to initiate a talk. Technically, his situation and status were already screwed up to the point where there was nothing he could do to make amends; the present reality basically turned into some twisted game of survival.

Maybe the selection of words was too harsh, but this afterthought still didn't shake the description. If the over-defensive government and armies of police were afraid to act, then there must have been a third-party keeping them at bay. He deliberated over what the seemingly removed girl had to do in this, gradually the will to raise even a word died. The tiny mental breakdown from the crisis behaved like a daydream— when the undamaged bike came to a halt at a red light, something the teenager dared not to do before, his eyes were still drifting off to the dreary, dampened, environment.

The male escapee expressionlessly observed the crossroad's rusty streetlights, dilapidated buildings, and uninteresting traffic. With no patrol cars or any other possibly hostile forces in the vicinity, the decision for a break was a no-brainer. Too ill at ease to relax her clutch on the handlebars, the motorcyclist caused the engine to sputter occasionally; as if from impatience.  
>Even though there was another person, unnoticeably fastening himself to the only other post, her, the bitter cold was scarring. The precipitation rendered her helpless in expressing the wreckage of emotions in her head. The stop gave her the instance to settle on a real destination, and to hide from the gust that picked up from behind them. With the next go signal, she kicked off the pavement, steering rather unpredictably at turns.<p>

The winding route that cut through downtown led to an area secluded enough to be titled suburban. The prisoner didn't bother taking record of the street names. However when the driver turned the ignition off at the edge of a empty street, CR-SO1 put some effort in scanning the spread-out neighborhood, most of his attention going to the largest house they parked in front of. Lacking a proper plaque or label, the two-story structure had a vintage appearance with bushes as a fence and unevenly tinted bricks on the outside.

The taller of the two spotted a light that once came from a now shuttered window on the higher floor. He couldn't make out much else with the bleary conditions. With water dripping rather than running down his saturated clothing, the rain neared an end— the longing for elucidations were swapped with the material needs of a new wardrobe, a bed, and if his appetite reappeared, dinner. Before he set foot on the walkway, he took note of the girl's leader-like personality overtaken by a grievous aversion.

She intended to rip off some sort of gauze-like tape that was streaming out past the collar of her soddened outfit; it was consequently exposed from enduring the vigorous action and accursed weather. Just when the doctor could raise a comment, not only was the slack already torn and shoved angrily into a wet pocket, an astonished woman with autumn-colored hair carrying a traditional black umbrella and a sack of groceries sounded, "Oh...you're..."

The stranger, wearing a bold cyan dress, may have recognized the convicted mass-murder off the bat, but her auburn eyes were directed at the other visitor as well. It was a short-lived recognition, as she then drew her gaze to the front door unlocking from within. The rainfall discontinued as the commotion behind the slab of wood and metal loudened with multiple voices and footsteps. To be more exact, the assumption of a matured female drowned in the fussing of a mob of small fry; or the patterned knocks of boots on tiles bombarded by a cyclone of eager stomps.

"Stop fooling around, it's just Elise. I'm too busy for this tug-of-war."

"No it's not!" "I saw from the window! It has to be..." "Yeah, remember what I said about the mall?!" "Just open the door and you'll see!"

"Please, you don't need me to open the—" A blonde lady of approximately the same age as the pedestrian the duo 'bumped into' revealed herself among a rapacious mountain of children. As the rest of the squirming 7 and 9 year-olds tested the hinges of the obtrusive wooden wall, she wiped the overburdened scowl from the petulant grouse off of herself.

The fateful assembly consisted of catatonic stares, or the reverse, smiles of pure amusement. The latter distinctly on the faces of the adolescents about to bulge past the adult bearing a stoic eye on the newcomers— the harrowing anticipation welling up for the specialist when he spotted the foreboding, grayish-blue eyepatch over the right eye of the presumed manager. With his ignorance almost perpetual, he diverted himself hopelessly to the nosy swarm behind her. In the meantime, Elise and the unnamed teen, one uneasy and one no longer looking askance, were both stunned when the glint in the orange eye of the supervisor appeared when her outstretched arm banged the abused door shut. It was as if the two group never met.

A separate storm raged on in the house with the noisy rush of fleeing kids. Whatever warning that was used was effective no doubt, but the entrance had buffered that from the trio's ears.

"Well—" Was the neutral yet skittish reaction of the shopper as she perched the end of the umbrella she closed on the gravel pathway. Almost remissly in her gait to the doorstep, she failed to even seem inquisitive about the man. When she whirled back to survey the swollen black clouds and a streaks of purple lightning, the resident who rudely closed off the shelter 'retried' the meeting with only herself as the receptionist.

"Take care of the tykes...paper read that we're getting another wet episode tonight." That and with a fling of her bangs from her peeved mood, the one-eyed woman had curtly beckoned Elise to rush indoors. Playing with the cerulean tie on her sailor-like apparel, she sustained a defiant disposition for the foreigners, one of them developing an uneasy sentiment about the hostess' mocking grin. "Isn't this...fascinating." What she saw as riveting the surgeon had difficulty getting down to.

Outside of his collected composure, CR-SO1 couldn't flesh out a decent impression of anyone here. That teasing attitude of the blonde blocking the refuge eroded away into a humorless one the instance she and 'Erhard' traded quick glances. To the doctor it appeared to be some form of agreement, but the presumed benefactor scurried around the woman, unmindful of the trail of rainwater that sprayed the wooden planks.

A lurking thunderstorm resounded, yet it was treated with the highest disregard from the gatekeeper of the property. "Even if neither of us is landlady of this hovel, doesn't mean..." Even with her unimportant depreciation of the girl's ill-mannered arrival, to him the apathetic and impenetrable traits were a good justification of why he was postponing a blind entry into uncharted territory; the comment about a 'hovel' didn't cut it at all.

"I certainly wouldn't take you as an ingrate, doctor. This shouldn't be a tough decision on your part...Get in."

There was a numbness behind his neck the second he took in the insults. His foot purposely slid forward, not under the intention to comply, but to protest. "Exactly who are all of you—" Before he could emphasize his involvement, the woman, who he didn't see cleaning her nails when she let out that ridiculing recruitment pitch, was practically gone from her post. The thwarted specialist biliously moved toward the structure, later timidly probing the first room he stumbled upon, a spacious dining room.

That lady he meant to question was imputing numbers into a cheap, obsidian-black cellphone. She paused and grunted satisfactorily to herself as the guest came to the realization that the lobby-sized area was a mess hall. Not putting in account of the contributions he was making to the puddles on the floor, he spoke with a cracked voice, "This place... is an orphanage?" Recalling the agglomeration of youths the woman had banished from the front and now the view of this Thanksgiving-like setting as the main chamber, the conclusion was not too surprising for the one on the phone.

With a hint of faux shock, she chimed back while folding back her sleeves a little, "Ironic, right? Anyways if you'll excuse... Oh." Apparently the call was picked up, and she strayed to the farther end of the long-table. The untreated newcomer, after taking in the expanse of the building, remained unrelieved at the lack of action surrounding his presence. He thought about getting lost rather than stand idly and damage the wood beneath him. The sophisticated air around that wayward receptionist, who didn't precisely fit the unruliness of that copycat, heightened when he caught onto what she said into the device:

"So I heard your nickname is now 'bookworm.'" There was a moment for her to snicker, probably at the violent shouting on the other line after her note. She patched up her greeting with a darker tone, "It's Candice. After you're done, I need you to check the status of someone named Erhard Muller...and just so you know, Sparrow is back."

With the complete transaction of the message, she loudly clapped the phone shut and addressed the dismayed eavesdropper with weakly crossed arms, "This isn't a mystery that'll stump you. You have four names, you have four adults." She airily trotted closer while instructing him on the word association game, but her intended direction was headed for a hall to the left of him. "The kids already gave you a freebie with Elise."

In an uninterested fashion, she twirled away from the fugitive, who was left on his own devices until now, and added less casually, "Room's upstairs and the farthest to the right...I presume you're starving, but please try not to drown us all in the process with your speed. If you know what I mean." That menacing left eye shot a look at his waterlogged condition, not disgusted, though not delighted, either.

A long breath escaped CR-SO1 as he struggled to hold back the rest, and the majority, of the inquiries. He had some assurance from the talkative-ness of that woman, and the fact she spilled out many names after such a criminal offense was made...The widening enigma about the copycat who had a distinctive appellation, for starters. Caught up in all of that, he hadn't made an single movement toward the traditional wooden staircase.

"Look at you, swimming in your little pond over there." At such a far distance, Candice was being metaphorical with her frustrated chide. Rumbling thunder amplified to a vicious series of crackles as she reminded him to get a move-on, "It's late, and if you really need an incentive: You can ask whatever you want tomorrow morning." This time, her self-dismissal was followed with a grumble, "He's different from the usual doctors..."

* * *

><p>"I'll say it once and only once."<p>

The attention of five staff, two agents, and a pair of adolescents fell upon the forensic expert sitting in the primary swivel chair inside the conference room while poising a pen over a manilla file. Dr. Kimishima had been doing so for the past few minutes as those seeking explanations filled the space inside. Though her role in the poorly-timed get-together was the most imperative, she indifferently folded her legs, not concerning herself with how the listening crowd was all on their toes, still high-strung by the turnout of the night.

In all honesty, the one suited to this responsibility was the detective; his credibility wasn't severely flawed, but perhaps the Chief Surgeon hoped the medical examiner would divulge more. "The alias you know as 'Raven' is a group of federal-targeted thieves. It's not a single person like what they believe." Sadly that finding was not music to Ian's ears. "Their string of robberies has been unbroken for eight years...the case was put aside when the streak became inactive three years back. It's been revived after the Carson accident and the theft this afternoon." The humiliation wasn't necessarily on her shoulders, however admitting such things harmed the reputation of officials, particularly the man who had been pursuing this longer than herself.

Naomi anticipated a respective silence, so she inserted the ball-point pen into the folder and insouciantly got up. She glanced to Alyssa, the girl who sensed herself on pins and needles to see her adoptive mother bringing the favorite bedtime story into everyone's reality. The boy she determined to be a 'friend' experienced a disheartening sting from something that was mentioned. Since his testimony wasn't worth sharing, he continued to grip the crutches uncomfortably, his stomach starting to act up.

Most were unresponsive to the exclusive peek into federal business, but Dr. Cunningham, who normally would 'half-ass' through daily life, might as well embrace the next future 'hazard' of his medical career with open arms. "Plus, that threat thing your agent mentioned?" He, well over exerted from the drama, and Little Guy, hiding Alyssa's reckless move to shield the armed suspects, were closest to the door, both least likely to leave the discussion open-ended. Gabriel allowed himself to crush the used cigarette in his pocket as he summed up the problem at hand, "And for the record, what does any of this got to do with the specialist?"

"There were always threats and notices from 'Raven.'" Ian snarled back before Navel could mutter anything. The older clarified his position in the intertwined cases, "If we knew someone planned to abscond the prisoner, we wouldn't have given him the deal." His thick coat became heavier to him, as he was burdening the fault of not taking full pursuit— the personal reason was concealed under an occupational excuse, "Only private investigation forces are permitted to deal with the thieves... Government threw out federal involvement few days ago." The explicit orders were absurd, and arguments filed right after:

Dr. Torres exploded at that from the other side, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" She threw her palms onto the laminated surface in front of her while Ian checked his walkie-talkie for any recent breakthroughs other than 'they fled scot-free.' Esha, Tomoe, and Hank, her neighbors in the assembly, drew the same responses, none coming to the aid of the caretaker's side of the debate. Maria, sick of government intervention, attempted to recap what was being told with little restraint on her ire, "You're saying, even when the kid you were in charge of was on the line, you can't do a damn thing because—"

"Quiet down. There are a significant amount of rumors that link the very case with the indigenous mafia. Isolating one out of many won't do any good, doctor." Under immense pressure, the man pulled down his shades to come face-to-face with the paramedic. "You want that surgeon back alive, right? I didn't have much of a choice if the threat was real." Those on the sides could only picture the light, fatigued eyes of the federal while the EMT's will to reject the unfair regulations depleted at the sight of Naomi slightly nodding to the opponent's controversial explication.

Avoiding a reprise of a defeated quarrel, the tigress receded from middle. The co-workers offered little commiseration for her endeavor as they absorbed the fragments of evidence. With the rest of their puzzlement unable to be voiced in words, they watched the detective slip his sunglasses back on with exhaustion and departed accordingly, as if the state of affairs didn't ruin his routine. With his own trial of covering up the incident from the public, no one intercepted his departure.

"There's another storm approaching tonight... let's leave it at that." Dr. Kimishima finalized for the discussion, one hand extended to Alyssa while the folder rested in the other. Being led out, the anxious girl muttered out a goodbye meant for the distrait Tomoe and Gary, all the while hugging Chloe somewhat tightly to stay calm. The blue-suited attendant was the fourth to proceed along, austerely accepting the farewells of the Resurgam staff for his boss and her child.

Dr. Tachibana, keeping in mind that the solidifying attitudes of the room are tarrying the healing of the doctors from the crisis, clasped her hands together and expanded on what Naomi had passed along, "Some of us should help the others with checking on the patients... " Bringing her best possible smile to the group, she gestured the disconsolate teen. "Mr. Forester, I'll return you to your room. With that, I believe we should all at least have some dinner..." Shy to advert awareness to the time, the woman hastened her parting with the boy cagily tagging behind.

"Uh, Tomoe— I need to..." The dark-skinned Chief Surgeon sighed at her inability to stay punctual. She thought Hank or Maria was next to walk out on this, but after a tad of silence, it was clear that they were still reviewing what befell them. "I guess I gotta find someone to take that kid's place..." Contrary to what she just said, she was driven aback when Gabriel cut her off from the door. "What now, can't you see I'm already tied-up? Forget about your—"

"It's not that." The olive ponytail of the diagnostician was tossed to a side as his complaint was made, "This is something that came to me after Tomoe mentioned it— the patients. I know there were cannons and whatnot going about the hospital, but...that's beside the point." His tolerance and cool, hard to redeem after a bike show, were struggling to keep insults from sliding out of his mouth. "Couldn't you just use RONI to, you know, deliver the red alert?" As much as he would love to criticize his manager's uncomely reaction on the PA, he would have to cut her the slack, since Holden was really the one to fan the embers that resulted in turmoil.

She cringed as if the thought bit her in the back of the throat. "W-well, the thing is... Rapid Organiza-whatchamaycallit...went sorta out of service with the surveillance footage." The doctor's response to his 'dead' terminal was split for that news. Before rounding off her defense, Esha eased back the strings of her violet-red hair that have separated from the bun and top of her head. "Don't worry, the thing should be running by now...Thanks for reminding me." Totally evading her colleague's real point, she wondered if she had just psyched herself from getting back to work. With the two doctors yet to make much of a comment, the lady took off at a dithery pace.

"So, Gabriel, about tonight's arrangement—"

"The guy who told me about the place said to come tomorrow. Nice call, huh?" A passive answer from Dr. Cunningham, who was almost knocked for a loop when he nearly forgot the schedule change. He would've ran along now, just as polished as the other cohorts...

"You two are talking about that night out?" Maria, lacing herself into the fresh chat, positioned her wrists on hips bearing some resignation. She braved a few strides back and forth with the men curiously overseeing.

The two war veterans both had no clue what was plaguing the paramedic, and the doctor fixing the stethoscope from strangling him choked out as a remark, "How did you...so... you're wanting in? Er..." It's not that he didn't want it, actually, that Jet person did ramble about the woman's connection to his unlikely drop-in. But as 'great' as it would be to have a third member, (Oh yeah, he forgot about the bill, that patient better be taking care of it.) he had this really iffy sensation, which wasn't the nicest feeling in the world. "Something wrong over there?"

"Put that on the side... I was kinda just thinking about that ride the kids stole." Dr. Torres leaned to the side while dropping her tired arms from her sides, cuing someone else to add on.  
>Hank raised a glance to his buddy for a more fancy phrase than 'it's unfortunate.' To his astonishment, Gabriel made a brusque shrug and remark, "Sucks for whoever it was, the keys must've gotten left behind." For a guy that never reached out with much 'fellow feeling,' he couldn't call himself cruel for such a coherent statement.<p>

Flipping away, the EMT emitted a growl that was just a snippet from her fit of pique. Obviously not getting the picture, the associates traded crooked eyebrows. The fundamental participant of the 'restaurant visit' decided compromise must have been the solution for the AMI.

"Eh, Maria...?"

"Shut up, Gabe. Listen me out first..." A dry throat obstructed her path from a clean exposition of the matter. Taking care of that with a gulp, she straightforwardly pointed out, "Those keys weren't left out there by some moron. I know that because...the bike the kids stole, was mine."

* * *

><p><em>HaHAH. Take that, cliffhanger!<em>  
>Hrm... you may have jumped back into the upper middle to check on what Maria said earlier. :O<br>And, yeah, finally, the OC has a name rather than CR's. . And I'm moving Elise back in and landing a more important OC (who I'm sure some of you would know from the Archetype series~)

Okay. I'm gonna make the questions real simple:  
>1) Whose side are you rooting for to be the victor in this conflict: The Federals or *coughwhereCRissorta*? Or are you just Resurgam members, stuck in the middle of nowheres?<br>2) So...um... which OC stand out most to you so far, personally, characteristic-wise? (Because, I'll just point out, there is information going back to the way earlier chappies about people I'm preparing to assimilate into here...)  
>3) Do you see one straight flow of the plot, or a fork in the story at this point?<br>4) Even though 'Erhard' (lol I'm sure you saw the name in the chappy, but staying safe from skimmers) has been around since the first chapter...considering all that just happened...are you still comfortable reading with that OC lurking about?  
>5) Explain what you think really caused Resurgam's breakdown...<br>6)Oh yeah, you got a favorite quote yet? XD


End file.
